A/N: This chapter is not very Hook-Positive. So if you like Hook and don't read this chapter, I guess. I don't know. There's two references to A Long Kiss Goodnight and one reference to Buffy the Vampire Slayer. If you can tell me which episode, you're my new best friend. Anyway enjoy. This chapter is mostly unbetaed. So any and all mistakes are mine. If anyone is interested in betaing, let me know.
Overall Rating: E/NC-17 (As some chapters contain explicit content)
Chapter Rating: M/R (For Violence, Strong Language, Adult Themes)
Warnings: Non-Magical AU, Criminal AU, Violence
Full Summary: See Chapter One
Chapter Summary: Forced Disappearance - (n.) when a person is secretly abducted or imprisoned by a state or political organization or by a third party with the authorization, support, or acquiescence of a state or political organization, followed by a refusal to acknowledge the person's fate and whereabouts, with the intent of placing the victim outside the protection of the law.
Disclaimer: See Chapter One


"It ain't about how hard you hit. It's about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward."
― Rocky Balboa


"I got hot sauce in my bag swag…"

The song cuts out with the press of a button, the only noise now being the idling of a car engine. Tiana is in the driver seat, knuckles whitening as she wrings the steering wheel, nervously. "This doesn't sit right with me. I don't like it Snowflake."

Truth be told, it doesn't sit right with Emma either. Her relationship with Hook is shaky at best. He's one of the few people that she had to convince to see things her way when it came to the criminal dealings in the city. And by convince, she means violently threatened into submission. Something that even months after her supposed death, he's still butt-hurt about.

Well sucks to be him.

"It's not like we have a choice," the blonde pipes up from the backseat. "Hook owes me a chit. It's times to cash in."

"You need me as backup?" Tiana asks.

Emma shakes her head and glances at the assassin with a knowing smile. "I've got backup."

Tiana chuckles. "Then I'll chill out here and wait for y'all. I'll keep the engine running, because I know you, bitch, and I know how you get down. So just be careful."

"You first," you reply. "And since you've met me before…"

"Already done."

"Thanks, you're the best."

Tiana shrugs. "It's what I do, Snowflake."


The auto shop Hook is held up in has seen some better days. Or Hook's crew thrashed it. Emma's willing to be it is a little bit of both as she leads Jefferson and Regina in the garage.

"We're closed," one of the bikers tells her until they get a good look at the blonde's face. Then his eyes widen, the color drains from his face, and he calls for Hook.

"Smee, what the bloody hell! I was-…" The words stop when Emma catches the gaze of a man, who somehow always manages to make her skin crawl.

It's not his looks. He's attractive enough; dark hair, crystalline blue eyes, a symmetrical face. So although her preferences lean a different way, Emma, in theory, understands his physical appeal. He's pretty. She gets it.

It's the way he leers at her, like she's a slab of meat there simply for his consumption that makes her stomach heave whenever he's in the room.

It's gross. He's gross. The end.

"Hello there, my lovely," he greets, sauntering over, this smarmy grin splitting his features.

Emma nods. "Captain Asshat."

The sleazy biker chuckles, moving closer just a sliver. "Knew you weren't dead. You're too stubborn to die."

"Not for your lack of trying, Captain Asshat," she tells him, pointedly.

"Which is why I suspect you're here, love," Hook replies. "To cash in that favor I owe you."

"Among other things," she adds.

Of course he feigns ignorance, like he couldn't possibly know what Emma's hinting at. "What other things?" He doesn't wait for her to answer before his gaze descends upon Regina, his eyes darkening as he takes in her form. "And who is this lovely creature?"

With a deep breath, Emma silently reminds herself she's not here to hurt Hook, and she points between the assassin and the biker. "Regina, Captain Asshat," she says. "Captain Asshat, this is Regina…" Emma searches for the right term.

"Her partner," the assassin supplies.

Hook sneers. "Don't know why you're running with this one, pet. I doubt she knows what to do with a woman like you."

Regina arches an eyebrow. "Ironic, as I was just thinking the same thing but about you."

"Oh, she's feisty," he coos. "I like a woman with fire."

"The kind of fire I possess is likely to burn you to a crisp," the assassin shoots back.

The thoroughly amused laugh that escapes Emma can't be helped. Regina's not giving Hook an inch. As a lot of his personality centers around being God's gift to the quote-unquote fairer sex, it's starting to get to him, because he's done the math and by now she should be fawning all over him like some lovestruck schoolgirl. His lip twitches but he hides it beneath with a curl of his mouth into a baleful smirk.

It's supposed to be menacing. The kind of smile a predator might have. All it does is make the blonde want to punch him. She wants to walk right over there and beat him until he's broken and bleeding. But she refrains because if Regina needed your help, she'd ask.

"Not gonna defend your lady's honor, Swan?" He's trying to bait her, turning to the assassin again. "If you were mine, pet…"

"Okay!" Emma snaps. "Business. Here to do some business. We still do that, right? Just because we're on the aberrant side of this doesn't mean we can't conduct ourselves with at least a modicum of professionalism."

"Aberrant?"

The blonde's scowl breaks apart at Regina's teasing tone to reveal a playful smile underneath. "Always with a tone of surprise."

"Now who's being unprofessional, Swan?" Hook asks.

"Still you, Captain Asshat," she replies. "Still you."

Hook, of course chooses to ignore the blonde and sets his sights on Jefferson. "And look what we have here. Still following her around, eh? Well when you've had enough taking orders from a bloody woman, lemme know."

With a show of incredible willpower, Emma does not walk over there and beat him within an inch of his life, despite her palms itching with desire to smack a bitch.

Someone reaches into her jacket pocket then and she tenses until she realizes it's only Regina teaching for her cigarettes. The other woman fishes one out, placing it between her lips as she lights it. Emma watches her, she studies the way the other woman's cheeks pucker when she draws the toxic smoke into her lungs. The blonde forgets about Hook and his special brand of asshatry, momentarily, enthralled by the woman at her side.

When she catches Emma staring, Regina rolls her eyes as she shakes her head, passing the cigarette to the blonde. Emma sheepishly whispers thanks before taking a drag from the cancer stick with a deep but satisfied sigh.

Someone emerges from the same door Hook had earlier. She's older. 40… something. Pale skin with dark features and luminous grey eyes that seem to light up when they set upon Emma. She smiles, exuding sex with every subtle sway of her hips as she joins Captain Asshat. Or the blonde may just be imagining that.

Hook pulls the newcomer against him, nuzzling her neck and she sinks into his embrace with a laugh.

Emma fights the urge to gag. Not because of some aversion to overt displays of heteronormativity, but because she doesn't understand how someone would willingly take Hook as a lover. He's a fucking repugnant - well - asshat.

However, she doesn't say anything. The blonde just puffs away on her cigarette and wonder how Hook does it. He's not rich. He's probably the selfish type in the bedroom. Is it really just because he's pretty? Is that really all it takes? Because barring Hook having a magical penis that's the only explanation.

"You didn't tell me we had guests, lover," the woman comments.

"Didn't know they were here until I came out, Milah, my love," Hook replies.

Fucking seriously? Seriously?! Emma rolls her eyes and flicks the butt of her cancer stick away.

This… Caught-in-Romantic-Bliss Hook is more unnerving than regular Sleeze-Bucket Hook.

"I know you," Milah says, her attention falling back on the blonde. "But weren't you…?"

"Dead?" Emma offers. "Naw. Just a little rumor to keep things interesting."

"Oh I doubt you have much trouble keeping things interesting," Milah says, playfully. Then she looks at the blonde pointedly. "You know my ex-husband, Gold."

"Yes but I'm not here because of him," Emma replies. "I'm here because your boyfriend, Captain Asshat owes me."

"Captain Asshat?" the woman looks confused for a moment before she laughs quietly to herself. "You and she appear to have a history, lover."

Hook grins, rocking on his heels, as he wriggles his eyebrows suggestively. "Yes, love. We do have a history."

Emma's eyes narrow. She doesn't like the way Hook says history. Hell, it sounds wrong coming from his lady, too. She doesn't remotely appreciate what either of them are implying.

Because she would never...

She has never...

And she won't...

Look, Hook is a disgusting human. No one, absolutely no one in their right mind, would willingly have him in any capacity. Especially, but certainly not limited to, the mutually naked variety. A sane person would have to be drunk. Like very nearly dead drunk to...

Her eyes widen when a long forgotten memory invades her thoughts. And she groans. "We kissed. Once. And I only did it because I was fucking in the middle of a blackout drunken stupor and you wouldn't shut up about being able to turn me straight with just a kiss."

Milah chuckles. "How was he?"

The blonde shrugs. "Still gay. So..."

Some of Hook's boys laugh and Captain Asshat frowns, his ego bruised. And if Emma actually gave a shit, that might have bothered her. But as it stands she can't be made to give a fuck. Especially, about Hook and his oh-so-fragile masculinity.

"Let's cut through it, Swan," Hook finally says. "You have business with me. Let's conclude it so you can be on your way. What do you want?"

"Fine," Emma replies. "I want you gone. I want you out of my city."

"Your city?" he scoffs. "You sell information.

The blonde flashes her best professional smile. "Knowledge is power, Captain Asshat. And I've gathered a lot of info in that last decade or so. I've made friends. Some of them in high places. Some cops, a few judges, even a senator. Some of them are in some very low places, the kind of people you don't want to meet in a dark alley on a cold night. Now some of these friends owe me, like you owe me. And all of them don't like you. So think again before you refuse my very reasonable request. Because most of my friends wouldn't mind sending you off with the hard goodbye."

"Now, Swan, I wish you hadn't said that; challenged me in front of my men," he tells her taking off his leather jacket and hands it to his lady. "I'm afraid I'm gonna have to make an example of out of you."

Emma sighs, exasperatedly and shrug off her jacket. She's entirely too injured for this. But it isn't like she has a choice. Some people just need a good face punching. Others still may need to be repeatedly punched in the face.

Hook is the latter of the two.

The blonde is seconds from slipping out of her jacket and letting it fall to the floor when Regina catches her by the wrist, and takes it from her, the other woman's eyes boring into Emma's with a questioning gaze.

"I didn't want to assume," Emma confess.

"You could have asked, dear," Regina replies.

The blonde smiles. "Your Majesty, would you do me the immense honor of holding my coat so I can teach Captain Asshat a lesson in manners?"

"Of course, dear."

Emma leans in and kisses Regina's cheek, whispering "Thank you" before turning to the skeevy biker. "You really want to do this? Like seriously?"

"Count on it, love," Hook says as they both draw closer to the other. "Last few years you've been playing at being Kingpin, thinking you can bring order to the chaos. The last honorable rogue in a den of thieves and murderers. But your type is bad for business. And I was actually relieved when they said you were dead, saved me the trouble of having to kill you myself." He draws a knife from his waist. "Now shall we?"

He's got a kabur in his right hand. 5 inches. Military issue. Honestly it surprises Emma. Not that he pulled a knife on her, that's right up his alley. But she figured that his insecurity would had him pulling out a machete on her.

"Do we really need weapons for this?" Emma asks.

"No," Hook replies, running his hand down the length of his torso. "They just make me feel all manly."

The blonde's cheeks redden. They can beat her to a plup, stab her, shoot her, but she draws the fucking line at anyone making an obscure geek reference. That's her thing.

Reaching into her back pocket, the blonde draws a butterfly knife.

"A little small, Swan," Hook comments.

"What it lacks in size, I make up for with natural skill, technique, and stamina," she replies, nodding to his knife. "You're one to talk. 5 inches? That's disappointing."

"Don't worry, love," he rolls out. "When I stick you, you'll feel me."

"If you stick me, you mean."

"I like her," Milah purrs.

Hook chuckles. "I knew you would, my love."

"Oh my god!" Emma groans. "Are you going to kill me or continue to assault my ear hole? Because honestly, gut me, torture me, lick my face to death... But if this innuendo shit keeps going, I'm just going to have to kill myself."

Milah laughs even louder. "I really like her."

The blonde pinches the bridge of her nose and takes a deep breath. "Are we gonna fight or is Mrs. Robinson gonna keep trying to get me into a threeway? Because - and I can't stress this enough, Hook - I wouldn't fuck her with your dick."

He flashes her a smirk. "I have choices?"

"Also," Milah's quick to add. "If it'll make you feel more comfortable you can bring your own accessories."

Emma catches Regina's gaze. "Is this what talking to me is like?"

She smiles, warmingly but still tells her, "Often times, yes."

"I am so sorry." The blonde rolls her neck, which doesn't nothing to alleviate the tension that settles deep in her shoulders. She steps forward, matching Hook, meeting him halfway. He's grinning like a kid in a candy store. Clearly this is more than just business for him. For Emma this is just means to an end. Whether it's hers or his will depend how well the next minute or so goes.

Contrary to popular belief, knife fights are quick, and deadly; usually over right after they begin. And they're messy. Humans are basically blood bags. Some wounds may bleed more than others, but the point is all wounds bleed. And even the most skilled with a knife, will get cut. It's not like in a gunfight where there's only a chance. With knives, it's a certainty.

Hook is bigger than the blonde but not by much. Still, he's physically stronger and as this is just a deadlier form of boxing, it surprises her when he flips the knife into a reverse grip, and drops into a defensive stance. Maybe he thinks he can afford to draw this out. Maybe he wants to goad her into making a mistake. Either way Emma has no choice but to be the aggressor and end this quickly. She can take a slash or two. But she doubts Hook can handle a few stabs. Her knife is 3 - maybe 3 ½ inches. It won't kill him unless she hits something vital. But it will end the fight before she takes too much damage. If Emma can get close enough.

Everything else fades away. The cheering of the crowd is drowned out by the sound of her blood rushing through her ears. Emma's heartbeat is hammering in her chest. Her skin hums, hairs standing on end, as a flood of adrenaline courses through her.

The blonde lunges forward and he backs away, slashing down. But she manages to block the blow, and slams her shoulder into his sternum. But the move opens her up, and Hook's knee comes at her hard into her ribs. A stabbing pain in Emma's side staggers her, with each breath, like inhaling fire and glass. And Hook advances, slashing at the blonde again. She brings her arm up to block and the blade glides across her skin. It doesn't hurt - not at first. Then as the blood wells, the first hint of pain seeps in. Which is good. Means the cut isn't deep. Emma would be more worried if the pain never came at all.

Stepping in and to the side, she brings her knife up and sticks him twice in rapid succession. His eyes widen, and he punches her in the face. The taste of cooper explodes across her tongue as Emma pushes away from him. But the ground is slick with oil and blood, and she slips. The impact knocks the wind out of her, and he's on you before she can recover.

"Well-played," Hook tells her. "You got me."

"Twice," Emma reminds him. She catches Regina taking a step forward and she shakes her head. She's got this.

Probably.

Maybe.

"Yeah, but it all comes down to how you finish, Swan."

"You're right," Emma begins, before tripping him up. When he stumbles she lock her legs and roll her body which gives her enough leverage to send him to the ground. Then the blonde pounces, somehow kneeing him in the face in her scramble to pin him to the floor. With her knife now pressed against his neck, all Emma has to do is add a little pressure and he freezes as her lips curl into a victorious grin. "How's that for a finish Captain Asshat?"

"You better end it, love," Hook spits, his words dripping with vitriol. "Because if you don't there's not a place you'll be able to hide."

A dark chuckle bubbles in the blonde's throat. "That's actually not how these things work, Hook. Not in New York. Not anymore. See it's a brand new day and you've pissed off enough people that just about everyone is tired of your shit. A few years ago we would have taken you out for a long walk off a short pier. But you see that's not good for business either." There's a faint wail of police sirens in the distance. "We found a better way of dealing with asshats like yourself." Emma calls out to his crew. "Your boss is getting locked up today. You can decide if you're going away with him. I'd say you've got about a minute maybe two to decide. Don't worry, I'll wait."

His crew scrambles out the second she finishes speaking. The only person lingering, Milah, who looks at Hook longingly.

"Go, baby," he tells her. "I figure a way out of this."

"I love you."

He nods. "Love you too."

And then she's gone, following his men out. And Emma watches Hook as the moment he realizes it's over washes over him. He sighs, offering his knife to her, handle-first.

"Well, you beat me."

"Hey, I gave you an out."

Hook nods. "You did."

Regina calls to the blonde then and she lifts her head up. "Slip out the back. T should be waiting," Emma says. "I've got this covered."

"And me?" Jefferson finally pipes up.

"You stay," the blonde orders. "Your ride's coming in a second."

"So we have a minute then, huh? Because there's something I want to ask," Hook asks, suggestively. "Between the two of you, who's the man and who's the woman?"

Emma's response is punching him in the face, once… twice… three times, when he has the nerve to look at her with this dumb, slack jawed expression on his stupid face between the second and third jabs.

He groans but still manages to throw out, "I have to admit, I like this side of you, Swan. In charge, on top."

She hits him in the face again and splits his lip. "And you're done," Emma warns. "Say one more word and I'll stab you… again… The point is shut the fuck up."

Regina chuckles and the blonde blushes, flashing a goofy, lopsided grin her way. "Put pressure on the wound," the assassin instructs. "So he doesn't bleed out."

Emma nods. "Right."

"And dear?"

"Yes, your Majesty?"

Regina kisses her soundly on the lips, cupping the blonde's face in her hands. "Be careful."

"You first."


"Lemme see if I got this right…" The tiny, gruff man speaks with just a tinge of doubt. It's almost like he doesn't trust Emma's word "You came in here and just happened to find Hook, a wanted criminal, on the ground, stabbed twice and beaten up?"

She nods. "Yes."

"How did you cut your arm?"

She shrugs. "Tripped."

"Right," he pauses and then starts to lay into her. "Listen, sister if you think I'm buying what you're selling you got another thing coming. Don't piss in my hair and tell me it's raining."

Emma's face contorts into a grimace at his choice of words. "Peeing on people is actually not one of my kinks so you don't have to worry about that, officer."

"I should haul your ass in you-"

"Leroy!"

A smile graces her features at the sound of that voice; her angel has arrived. Her angel is a tall, slender woman, with a dark tan complexion, true brown eyes, and dark curly hair pulled back in a ponytail. She's wearing a midnight blue pant suit with black flats and a pair of sunglasses rest on top of her head. She takes one look at Emma and shakes her head.

"Marian," the blonde greets. "How goes it?"

"From the looks of it," the detective begins. "I'm having a better day than you are."

"What makes you say that?" Emma asks.

"You look like you got hit by a truck."

"It's been a weird day and a half."

"Any of that weirdness have anything to do with the murder at the Four Seasons on 57th this morning? Or the six bodies in Queens?"

The blonde grins knowingly but feigns ignorance. "Why detective, I have no clue what you're referring to."

Marian turns to Leroy. "I've got it from here."

"Whatever you say," the other cop mutters and then shuffles away.

"He's grumpy," Emma observes.

"Gee, I wonder why that is." Before she can explain herself, Marian cuts her off. "No, the less I actually know, the better. So this guy, Jefferson, what do you want me to do with him?"

Emma hands Marian a card. "Call that number and ask for the name on the back. It'll connect to you my Interpol contact. Give them my name and Jefferson will be off of your hands in an hour."

The detective sighs. "Alright. But careful. You know, with everything."

"You first." Emma nods toward Jefferson. "Can I have a word?"

"Make it quick," Marian orders. "You're not supposed to be here, remember?"

"Yeah, and thanks."

"Don't mention it… Seriously, don't."

Emma grins. "I won't."

She makes her way over to Jefferson and notices he's in cuffs. Probably just a precaution. He won't be booked. She knows that much. But still, seeing him like this, it shouldn't be this way. Even with what happened between them. Maybe Lily and August are rubbing off on her, but she sees him as the sick little puppy he might very well be when she sits down next to him.

"The detective is going to take you in," Emma informs Jefferson. "But you won't be booked. In a few hours, you'll be on a plane."

"Where am I going?" he asks.

"Somewhere you can get the help you need," she replies. "Somewhere far away from temptation."

"Why do are you doing this? Because of Lily?"

"That's part of it," Emma admits. "But I also want to be able to look at myself in the mirror and not hate myself. If I kill you… I'd be losing more than just her, I'd be losing a bit of me too."

"Five years ago, you would have killed me."

"Probably. But even old dogs like me can learn new tricks," she says. "Take care of yourself, Jefferson. And get better. Not for Lily. Not for me. Get help for yourself."

He smiles and places his cuffed hands on hers. "Goodbye, Emma."

"Catch you around, Jefferson."

"Emma, don't take this the wrong way, but I really hope we never see each other again."

"Fair enough."


"Idiot…"

Emma hisses the second the antiseptic makes contact with the long, angry gash on her forearm. "Yup."

"It doesn't appear that you'll need stitches this time," Regina informs the blonde as she starts to bandage her arms. "I'd tell you to be more careful in the future. But I have met you."

"Hey," Emma interjects, ready to lay out a logical rebuttal. Then she really thinks about it and all that she can offer is an honest concession. "That's actually fair."

"If you could let me in on your plan next time that would be appreciated," the assassin states, finishing up her work on the blonde's latest wound. She notice the way Regina inspects the scars adorning her arms, searching for the story behind every blemish. Most people who notice her scars recoil from Emma, whether out of fear or pity; it doesn't matter. But not Regina. What fills her dark eyes is a simple understanding. And the pure honesty of it makes the blonde want to run for the nearest exit.

"Where's the fun in that?" she asks. And when the assassin shoots her an incredulous glare, Emma holds her hands up in a mock surrender. "Please don't hurt me…" Pale lips curl into a playful smirk. "Unless there's a safe word involved."

Regina rolls her eyes but still leans in when Emma's arms encircle her waist as the blonde pull the other woman against her. Regina cups her face, thumbs brushing along her cheeks. "You are by far the most insufferable human being I have ever met."

"Probably," Emma agrees.

The assassin sighs, her breath ghosting across pale lips. "But I suppose that's a part of your charm."

The blonde grin brightens. "I knew it. I knew you found me charming."

"Idiot."

"Yup."

Their lips meet softly. A content sigh escapes Emma as she leans in. It's innocent at first. Just a gentle greeting between lovers. But then Regina's fingers are threading through blonde curls, her nails scratching against the blonde's scalp as she deepens the kiss. And Emma responds in kind. The assassin's hand drops to her shoulder, fingers dancing along her collarbone. Regina draws Emma's bottom lip between her teeth and bites down, gently at first, but with increasing pressure until the blonde whimpers. And then, Emma feels the bandage at her shoulder being ripped from her skin, taking the upper layers of her epidermis with it.

"Ah, fucking fuck!" Emma exclaims, pulling back, checking her newly exposed wound. "A little warning next time maybe?"

The assassin chuckles, ignoring the blonde for a moment to examine her stitches. "If I had warned you, you would have tensed, and it would have hurt worse."

"So kissing me like that...?"

"A simple distraction technique," Regina tells Emma. "The same principle applies to deflowering virgins."

The blonde laughs. "Oh? Got a lot of experience in that department, your Majesty?"

"Perhaps."

Emma pulls the other woman against her again and capture dark lips with pale ones. Her mind is dazed by the assassin's scent as she breathe her in, tasting Regina as if it's the first time. It's chaste, with no ulterior motive, that Emma's aware of. Still the blonde loses herself, too preoccupied with Regina that she doesn't hear the door open behind them.

"Urgh, get a room." Emma hears Belle groan.

"We did," the blonde tells her. "You're the one that came in here without knocking."

"I tried to tell her," Tiana says from another room.

"Anyway," Belle rolls on. "My work here is done so should I head home or…?"

Emma shake her head. "Nope, you're going the be with of us tonight. I don't want to take any chances. So pack up and head out with the girls. We'll take a different route and meet you all there."

Belle smiles. "Alright, Boss. Be safe."

The blonde nods. "You first, Beautiful."

The hacker closes the door behind her when she leaves. And Emma drops the brave face and finally cringes as she slides off of the table. Everything hurts. She's been beaten, stabbed, shot, and a vacation is sounding like a better idea with each passing second.

"You're in pain," Regina observes with a frown.

"So much pain, yes," Emma affirms.

"Do you have any pain medication?" the assassin asks.

"Yes, but I'm not going to take them," the blonde replies.

"Why not?"

"I dunno…" Emma shrugs. "Because?... You're going to make me take the pills, aren't you?"

"I'm not going to make you do anything, dear," the assassin assures her. "Strongly suggest until you eventually bend to my will? Perhaps."

With a sigh, the blonde holds out her hand. "Give me the damn pills."

"Good choice, dear."

"I hate you."


Aw. Aren't they so cute. Thanks for reading. Please leave a review. I'd love to hear what you guys think of this chapter. I still don't think I do fight scenes well.

Preview for Chapter Ten: Safehouse

"Hey…" Emma whispers, not trusting herself to speak any louder.

"You should have eaten something," Regina says, handing the blonde a bottle of vitamin water.

Emma begrudgingly accepts it and slowly straighten herself up. "Thanks."

"Slow sips," the assassin instructs. "You'll make yourself sick again."

For once, the blonde doesn't argue and do as she's told. The effects of the opiates are starting to wear off and her body feels like one giant bruise, like she's been ran over by a fleet of Volkswagen Beetles. Even lifting the water bottle to her lips seems like a herculean feat of strength as every muscle in her body protests the tiny movement.

"Pills never sit well with me," Emma confess, between sips. "Especially when I don't eat."

"Why did you take them then?"

The blonde shrugs. "I knew I needed to sleep."

"Why Miss Swan that's the least idiotic thing you've said to me since we've met," Regina teases.

"Pfft," Emma scoffs. "I've said things. Smart things. Things that allude to a certain kind of intellectual prowess, because I'm smart… Kind of… I have my moments." She fishes her cigarettes out of her jacket and lights one of them, only noticing then how her hands are shaking. Just a mild tremor, a slight twitch, that tells her she's on the verge of having a panic attack. "None really come to mind right now, but…"

"Are you always this self-deprecating?"

"Only when I'm nervous… or upset… or in pain… It's complicated," Emma says, hoping it'll end there.

It doesn't.

"It's my guess that it's all of the above."