Authors note: Not as quick as I would've hoped, but still faster than the last. I'm sort of getting back on track you guys. Anyway, hope you like the chapter, some trigger warnings apply, but they are the same that go for the entire story so... actually this whole story is one enormous trigger warning.

...

Breathe in, breathe out. Hit. And repeat. Emma had always been surprised to find a gym in such a small town as Storybrooke was, but who was she to complain. Right now she was taking the full benefit of it. This morning she had woken up with the terrible urge to punch something. Naturally, she had resisted acting on that urge, and that was how Emma found herself in the gym at seven in the morning. Still, the early hour hadn't helped her with escaping Henry's glare. And god, she should've expected it- the boy was an early riser, just like his mother was (not that Emma was sure of this fact, but she somehow just couldn't picture Regina Mills sleeping in). And so when she'd tried to be as silent as possible and sneaked downstairs, Henry was already sitting at the breakfast bar with a bowl of cereal in front of his nose, reading some comic book Emma was sure either Regina or Mary Margaret had bought for him (probably Regina, no scratch that- most certainly Regina). His head had remained bowed to the colorful pictures, but she'd felt his eyes on her immediately.

.

"Where are you going?" He muttered around a mouthful of crunchy cereal. Which took Emma by surprise, so much so that she dropped her gymbag to the floor.

"Damn." She cursed, holding her breath to make sure her parents were still sound asleep. Once she heard the sound of snoring steadily continuing, she turned to her son again. "Henry, damn kid, you scared me."She said, a tired smile bending her lips.

Henry in return said nothing, he just continued to stare at her. A dopey look in his eyes and Emma was about to crack a joke about the dwarfs but quickly decided against it. You could never know for sure how that would go over. Especially with a crowd like this. The crowd being her furious ten year old son that she hadn't raised for ten years. Yeah, Emma could understand why she wasn't that popular right now. Not to mention the other thing (she couldn't even face it in her own head, go fuck yourself Swan). So instead of making a bad joke, Emma sighed and rubbed at her tired eyes. "Look kid," She began, already dreading it. She could of course always divert the subject if this whole thing went completely wrong. That thought at least gave her some comfort- only some though. "Look kid, I understand you're angry with me- even as furious that steam is coming out of your eyes even at the sight of me. But I'm still your birth-mother. And you can't ignore me forever, Henry. Eventually this will become too much, not just for me but also for you. I'm sure you know how hard it is to stay mad at someone. So I guess we need to talk about it, maybe not now, but then some other time. Because this anger you feel towards me- or hatred, whatever it is- will eat you up. Like snakes eat mouse."

Henry dropped his spoon in his bowl, the left over cereal splattering onto the breakfast bar and Emma was about to say something about it, but he started talking instead. And so she shut up.

"Alright." He said with a finality that could've only been learned from Her Majesty the Queen. "You want to talk about it, let's talk about it."

She had to grind her teeth not to say something about the attitude because Emma knew it was somehow deserved. But still, if she had talked to a foster parent like that back when she was ten years old, she'd get a slap across the face.

He was staring at her now, or more like staring down at her. "Why did you do it? Why did you rape my mom?" His voice remained steady for most of it and Emma could see him swallow.

God, was there anything more nauseating in the world than hearing those words coming from a ten year old boy? That was the first thought that popped into her head. And the second was that if she really wanted to resolve this whole thing she was going to have to talk to her son. Of course, most details would be left out because it would traumatize the boy for sure. Even more so than he was already. So she braced herself, squaring her shoulders like a kick-boxer in the ring. Taking a deep breath she told the truth, becaus lying would just not do right now. The boy seemed to have inherited her human lie-detector skill. "I don't know, Henry." She saw he was about to open his mouth in objection and so she cut him off. "I'm being honest here, Henry. I really have no idea why I did what I did."

He remained silent for a bit, staring down at the ceramic bowl that was still sitting in front of him. He suddenly felt guilty towards his grandmother for making a mess of her breakfast bar. "How can you not know?" He asked eventually, his voice actually sounding very small and Emma was reminded that he was really only ten years old. His mature behavior often covered the fact that he was still a child. Not a teenager, but a child.

"That Idon't understand either, Henry. But what I do know is that it was all very confusing for me. You have to understand that you were dying, Henry. And the thought of loosing you, what I'm about to say is very ironic because ultimately I still lost you but now by my own actions. The thought of loosing you broke me, Henry. It messed with my head. And so, when I found out it was your mother's fault that you were lying in that hospital bed, I snapped. And it has happened before that I completely lost sense of reality, but not ever this violently. And so I took, what I thought was a fair revenge." Emma bit her bottom lip and stared for a moment. She didn't know what else to say, or how else to explain it. To be honest, it didn't make that much sense to her either. After hearing all the things she did when she was a child, a little girl in the big foster system, she now knew she'd stooped to their level. But Archie had made her understand that she wasn't the only one on that day who'd stooped to some level.

.

Henry hadn't said anything else after her explanation, and so Emma had grabbed her gym bag and made her way here. Where she was currently beating the shit out of an unfortunate punching-bag. But hey, better a punching-bag than sacrificing another one of Mary Margaret's toasters. Yeah, she wouldn't be happy about that particular casualty.

Wiping the sweat off her forehead, she looked around. There were only three or four others, some locals Emma had never seen before. It was so strange there were still people in this godforsaken town that she had never met before, it wasn't that big. She was just putting her left foot backwards when she heard something behind her. The two men that stood by the rack of weights were talking to each other, dumb oaf smiles on their faces as they stared at her. And Emma felt a shiver creep up her spine. They were perverts through and through, Emma had a nose for men like them. It came in handy sometimes, but usually she wished a youth of abuse hadn't made her sensitive to things like this. Why couldn't she ever join the ignorant side of the population? Another big laugh, and even their laugh sounded dumb, echoed through the mostly empty gym and Emma slowly turned around.

"Is there something wrong?" She asked with only a tiny bit of disgust in her voice.

Another laugh as if Emma had just said something extremely hilarious. Fuckheads.

"What do you want?" She snapped, now completely turning around. She felt unexplained anger burning in the back of her throat and she clenched her fists to keep herself from lunching at them.

"Yeah, we were just wondering if you were the dyke that raped our friendly neighborhood Evil Queen?" One said and the other one chuckled.

Emma saw red and she felt something strange, something she had never felt before tingle in her fingertips. "The fuck you just say to me." She muttered in a low, raspy tone, eyes narrowing dangerously.

"You know," The other one said with a sickening grin on his stupid face. "Back in my hometown there lived this old guy, completely insane, and you know what he always said?" He stopped for a minute to let out a chuckle. "You want to know what he always said? He said that men who loved other men could only get married if they conceived a child together. Because only true love can conceive a child in a marriage where the parents are of same sex." He doubled over in laughter, his hands resting on his knees. "Do you- do you think that that also counts when there are two girls in play?" They both laughed hard at that one. "The Evil Queen and the Savior have true love, god wouldn't that be the joke of the year?!"

And Emma didn't know what happened, but suddenly there was a white flash, and the only thing that was left of the two men were red splatters covering the pure white walls.

...

She'd woken up with a cotton feeling in her head and bile burning her throat on the fucking floor of all places. Mother's voice had finally subsided at about four in the morning, which then allowed Regina to get some resemblance of sleep. But it had only made her feel worse, now that she felt her aching muscles protest as she dropped down in front of the toilet. Fuck. When was this torture going to end? She felt disgusting, not only on the outside. She hadn't told anyone about it, instead Regina did everything she could to keep hiding it, just until it was absolutely impossible. She was starting to show, and seeing that tiny swell had done something to her. Something she wasn't entirely ready to face yet. She hadn't even told Archie about it in her last session. About how she'd first noticed after her usual morning shower, and how she'd stopped walking, stopped breathing, stopped doing anything and just stared. Her eyes fixated on the tiny bump that her reflection in the mirror was sporting. It took her a while to figure out that, yes, that was indeed the same person. Regina knew she had changed, almost beyond recognition, she thought so herself. Her face was fuller, though somehow it also looked worse. All dark circles, red spots and pale skin. Ugh, she looked like the horror version of Snow White. Now all she needed was a bird on her shoulder and a fucking bow in her hair.

That thought had initially brought a bubble of dark laughter to the surface and Regina had actually doubled over in amusement. But then broodier thoughts came to mind and she'd destroyed the mirror with one good-aimed punch, using her hairbrush. After that she'd carried on like it was a normal day, only now wearing slightly looser clothing to hide the bump. And they all had been none the wiser. Luckily.

Regina brushed off the thoughts and stood up on aching legs. Her hand rested on the bump, she just couldn't help it. It was so strange, she couldn't put her finger on it. Perhaps she was afraid that she would only see Emma once this child was born, but that was ridiculous, she scolded herself. Henry was Emma's DNA and every time she looked at him she somehow saw herself as a child. All dark locks and chocolate eyes. And it would be the same with this child, it had to be. Maybe that feeling would be even stronger now, because she herself had also carried it- he- she, whatever the hell it was, it didn't matter. A long as it was healthy. And she actually pinched her forearm for telling herself that cliché. God what was happening, she was starting to sound like Snow.

And that was completely unthinkable. Completely. Utterly. Unthinkable. And yet that was exactly what was happening right now. Shit.

Regina turned her body sideways, looking at her reflection in one of the several mirrors that adorned the tiled walls. Some things Disney did get right, like her appreciation for the reflecting surfaces. She pulled the end of her loose sweater taut, letting it form along the gently curve of her stomach. Her eyes hadn't been playing tricks on her, there was definitely a bump there. Small, but present.

There was no way to describe her feelings at the moment. Not exactly happy, but also not as devastated as she thought she would be. And then her eyes fluttered away from the mirror, no longer being able to see it. She just needed to get used to it, Regina told herself as she turned the tap and started a hot shower. It was a matter of time, that is all there was to it.

And with that thought she took off her clothes and stepped under the scalding water, feel better by each burning drop of water that hit her skin.

...

There, we finally brushed on the topic of Emma's magic. Now would you be so kind as to leave a review, pretty please?