At the first sound of knocking on her door, Regina assumes it's just Emma again, and turns her attention back to the book she was reading.
At the second, she looks up, turning her head towards the door. The knocking is fainter than Emma's had been, but it's coming in faster little raps. Little raps from much lower down the door.
Regina stands and goes to pull it open, only for her heart to leap to her throat when she's met with a rumpled, sobbing Henry. The minute the door's open, he flings his arm around her waist.
"Henry?" she asks, wrapping her arms around him instinctively and pulling him inside. "Henry, what's wrong?"
"Momma," he sobs, and for a moment Regina's world stops. Her mind flips through every terrible scenario in twenty seconds flat and at the end of it her only thought is that something's happened to Emma and that she's been refusing to talk to her.
"Momma said -" he cuts himself off with another sob, but the additional word is enough to curtail the brunette's panicked thoughts of mobs, and fire, and witch burning.
"What did your mom say?" she asks, trying to keep her voice even. Because now all she can think is the last time they had a conversation about the things Emma says to him, it was one that left her with the sourest of tastes in her mouth.
"She said I was going to die," he sobs, and Regina freezes.
"She what?" Her voice is low, dangerous.
Henry finally pulls back to look at her. "Aunt Ruby was strangling me and then momma was yelling and she said I was going to die."
The brunette's eyes widen. "Ruby was strangling you?" she asks, but even as she's thinking that this must be a mistake, her eyes flick down to his neck where, sure enough, there are angry red marks just beginning to darken into bruises.
"Oh my god," she breathes. This is ridiculous. Still, she did watch Emma removing a fresh body from the house last night, one that by all appearances had been created there as well. There's another fleeting moment where she thinks maybe she has in fact been monumentally wrong about the woman.
And then her mind shifts back to the look of childlike wonder on her face when Regina had first summoned the butterflies, to the tender expression of care in her eyes as she'd cracked a rock into a rose for her. She thinks of a thousand tiny looks, and touches, and moments stolen together with magic or margaritas or the woman's wonderfully mad aunts.
She thinks of all those things and she knows. She knows without a shadow of a doubt that Emma is not capable of the wrongs it keeps seeming she's done. There is something going on, perhaps more than something. There's no doubt in her mind that the Swans are keeping secrets from her, but she knows in her heart that that secret is not that they are bad people.
So all this, what Henry's saying right now. It must be some kind of misunderstanding. A terrible one, one she would really quite like to give Emma absolute hell for - but a misunderstanding nevertheless.
"Henry, sweetie, it'll be okay," she promises the boy. "I'm sure that's not what she meant."
She reaches down to take a clammy little hand in hers and lead him over to a chair, then she crouches down in front of him, a steadying hand on his knee. "Now why don't you tell me everything from the beginning?"
The Aunts faces are deeply apologetic when they show up on her doorstep. There's a second where she's angry enough she almost considers not letting them in, but she knows that's ridiculous because they didn't do anything wrong.
It was clear from Henry's story that there's something happening with Ruby, and that Emma had in fact only been trying to protect the boy. Regina's still furious at the blonde for losing it like that with him, though. The boy had mentioned something vague about a curse, and for the first time, the brunette wonders if she's touched upon the secret that seems to be at the center of this family - but she'd put that aside to concentrate on explaining to Henry that grown-ups sometimes got very angry with people they love.
She would know, she's furious with Emma right now.
"Hello, dear," Lena gives a weary smile that holds none of her usual joyousness.
Regina folds her arms across her chest. "Hello."
Mal looks into her, eyes far too knowing, "He is here, isn't he," and it's not actually a question.
She doesn't have a good reason to lie to them, after all it isn't their fault. "Yes," she admits, though she doesn't stand aside from the door.
"I assume he told you what happened?" Mal asks.
Regina gives a curt nod. "It took a while but I managed to get the whole story eventually, yes."
"Emma didn't mean it, you know," Lena pipes up, her piercing blue eyes sincere. "She doesn't always go about it very well - but all she's trying to do is protect him."
Regina nods, she's beginning to realize that. "I know."
Mal raises an eyebrow at her. "Oh you do, do you?"
The brunette meets her gaze. "I'm coming to think so, yes."
She's not sure if she imagines the way Mal's green eyes soften at that, the way her lips quirk into the tiniest of smiles.
"What's wrong with Ruby?" she asks then, concerned. She only met the girl briefly, but Swans seem to have an amazing propensity to enchant her - she wouldn't want any harm to come to the girl.
The Aunts share a look that's part worry, part infuriation. "We believe the silly child is possessed," Mal answers. "It's nothing the two of us shouldn't be able to fix - but what on earth the two of them thought they were playing at trying to bring him back," she tuts, "foolish girls."
"Bringing who back?" Regina asks, desperate for some explanation.
"Ruby's boyfriend had an unfortunate accident yesterday," Lena begins, but then Mal elbows her, and she lets out a little 'oof'. "Yes well, Emma can tell you all about it," she finishes, and Regina's heart rate picks up.
"Emma's here?" she asks.
"She will be," Mal replies. "That girl has a lot of explaining to do, and we're not about to do it for her. We're already clearing up the mess she made with Ruby." She's clearly cross, but Regina feels acutely that it has more to do with a mix of worry and disappointment, and she thinks - though not for the first time - that Ruby and Emma might have lost their actual parents, but the Aunts are perhaps the best parental figures they ever could have asked for.
"We'd like to take Henry home, so she can talk to him," Lena explains. "She'll be over here to explain herself later."
Regina wonders if she has a say in this, unsure whether she even feels like facing the blonde today. But it's probably better to hash it all out whilst it's still fresh, before any grudges or misconceptions have time to settle.
"Alright," the brunette concedes, finally stepping away from the door. "Henry's inside."
Emma takes a second on the doorstep just to center herself. She's more nervous than can be at all beneficial, her palms sweaty, the distinct feeling of nausea swimming around her stomach.
Talking to Henry had been one of the most difficult things she'd ever had to do, and it took quite a lot out of her. She never wanted him to know the truth, never wanted to give him a burden like that. But after the way she'd blown up at him, the truth was the only option she really had left to make him understand - because if there's one thing on earth she needs, it's for her son to know that she loves him more than anything.
She should have known, of course, that on learning the truth Henry would immediately be more worried about her. He'd promised her over and over that he'd be careful so he didn't upset her anymore, and she'd laughed and pulled him into a much needed hug and told him he was the best little boy she ever could have wished for, promising - though in her heart she knew it was a lie - that she'd keep him safe.
She turns to the door and knocks with a shaking fist, clutching onto the bottle of tequila in her other hand for all it, and she, is worth.
"Regina?" she calls, and the door opens slowly. She's not sure whether she's more relieved or petrified by its opening.
"Emma," Regina greets, and it's formal, but there's a distant longing in her eyes that reassures the blonde that this mission might not be totally doomed.
"Hey," she replies, unable to stop the grin that blossoms across her face on seeing the woman. "Drink?" she asks, holding up the bottle. It's weak and pathetic, but it's the best she has right now.
Regina hesitates for a moment, glancing at the bottle and then back to Emma's face. "Come in," she mutters, turning on her heel and leading them to her living room. Emma doesn't miss the fact that the door swings shut of its own accord - and she certainly didn't do it.
"How's Henry?" Regina asks, and Emma's about to get defensive when she sees that there's only the faintest trace of accusation in the other woman's eyes - it's mainly just honest concern.
"He's fine," the blonde assures her. "We talked, I explained some things - things I didn't want to explain," she admits, "but I suppose he has a right to know. As do you," she adds, scratching at the bottle with her thumbnail.
"How about Ruby?" Regina asks, "How's she?"
"The Aunts are looking after her," Emma replies. "They need to exorcise the spirit, but then she should be fine."
"Good. Alright then, Emma," Regina sighs as she sits herself down on a dark, leather couch. Emma takes the one opposite. "You have my attention, now how about you explain yourself?"
The blonde suddenly feels like a naughty child in Regina's class, like she's done something stupid - thrown a spitwad or doodled on a desk. She feels small.
"Where do you want me to start?" she asks, though the answer is obvious. Of course it is, because all it could ever be is the most important thing to both of them.
"Henry."
"I would never hurt him," is what she immediately replies with, because she cannot stress this enough. The idea of Regina even thinking it of her cuts like a knife, and she looks down at the tequila bottle in her hands, thumb moving across the glass to play with the label.
"I know," Regina murmurs in response, and Emma's head snaps up again. She wasn't expecting that - not after everything that the woman must think she's seen.
"You do?"
The brunette nods. "I'm many things, Emma," she says, and her voice is so much softer than the blonde had expected it could be tonight, "but I don't believe, cannot believe that I am such a grievous misjudge of character. If I understand one thing about you, it's that you love that boy. So no, I don't believe you would ever deliberately hurt him."
"Deliberately," Emma repeats, shooting her a smile that holds no joy, just self-deprecating humor. "You're right, I never wanted to hurt him - ever. But... but the truth is I have to do everything I can to keep him safe. And sometimes that's meant causing a little hurt I wish I didn't have to."
Regina frowns at her, but says nothing, clearly waiting for further explanation.
Emma lets out a ragged breath. This is it then, this is when she lets Regina in on a secret that goes back generations. One she's not sure has ever been shared with someone outside the family.
"I...we... the family," she gulps, trying desperately to find the right words. "We're cursed," she says, getting it out as fast as she can.
Regina's eyebrows skyrocket. "Cursed? Henry said...but I assumed..." she looks up, "You're really cursed? That's true?"
Emma nods. "It dates back hundreds of years - it was my ancestor Maria that did it. She got knocked up and abandoned by some local and the heartbreak turned her bitter. So she cast a spell to prevent her descendents having to go through the same - but her bitterness turned it into a curse. Any man who loves a Swan woman is doomed to die."
Regina stares at her, expression unreadable, and for a moment the blonde thinks that the other woman is just going to laugh in her face. Call her crazy, a fool, a liar.
But then, "All the husbands," Regina whispers, and there's actual understanding in her dark eyes. Emma clings to it.
"There's nothing anyone's ever been able to do," she explains, "no matter what we've done to try and escape it, the death watch beetle comes for them. No one survives the curse."
"But Henry -"
"Is a son," Emma swipes a hand across her face. She doesn't even like thinking about this, talking about it aloud is plain painful. "Swan women almost exclusively have female children. The very few documented cases of Swan boys..." she trails off, "well...Swan boys, they're..." The words choke her in her throat, and she feels hot tears welling beneath the eyelids she's shut to try and prevent them.
Regina's next to her in an instant, hands reaching for hers and stroking a thumb across them. Her eyes are pained, and she looks simultaneously like she needs Emma to finish what she's trying to say, and like she never wants to hear it.
Emma holds her gaze for a long moment. "They die, Regina," she whispers. "They all die."
Regina looks like her world is about to fall apart, and Emma flips her hands under the brunette's so as to link their fingers together, clinging to her as if she's an anchor in a stormy sea. "There isn't a single documented case of a male Swan child living to twenty." Emma tells her, apology in her voice - because this might never stop hurting her, but at least she knew. She knew from the moment they handed Henry to her in the delivery room that she was going to lose him. Regina though, Regina's been allowed to fall for him with blissful ignorance that she's going to end as bereaved as the rest of them.
"That's why I told him he can't say it," she explains, desperate for Regina to understand, "no one knows the specifics of the curse and I just...I'm so terrified that one day he'll say 'love you momma' and then I'll hear that damned beetle and then he'll be gone. I'm terrified every time a car gets a little close, or he gets a fever. I know it's wrong but I just...Regina, I am so scared, because he is living on limited time."
The brunette takes a shuddering breath, head shaking, eyes wet. "No," she gasps, "no, that can't be right, no. Emma." She looks up and her dark eyes are begging, "Please tell me this is all a joke - isn't it? This is some kind of sick, sick joke?"
She sees in her eyes that Regina already knows that it isn't, but she needs it confirmed anyway. Emma gives the tiniest shake of her head, and Regina crumples.
"No," it's a ragged whisper, and it carries all the pain Emma feels on a daily basis. If she'd been looking for any more proof that Regina loves her son with the same fervor she herself does, this would be it.
Regina's eyes are wet with tears she seems too stubborn to allow to fall, but her face is a mask of horror and grief and fear.
"You knew," she eventually says, and it's accusing. "All this time you've let me love that child more and more and you knew... you knew I'd lose him just the same as you."
Emma turns her gaze guiltily to their still intertwined fingers. "I'm sorry," and she is. Regina is good for Henry, good for her, even good for the Aunts. She's good for the family, and Emma selfishly didn't want to risk scaring her away with the promise of inevitable heartbreak if she became too attached. "I'm so sorry, Regina, I am, I just... I just couldn't bear the idea of you being scared away from us."
She looks up and Regina's gaze has softened slightly. "You couldn't?"
"You're the best thing that ever could have happened to this family," she admits, and she means it with all her heart. "You told me that we saved you, but you saved us. You're the first person in generations who hasn't judged us for who we are or what we are." She shakes her head, disbelieving. "Some crazy twist of fate has seemed to make you love us for it."
"I do," the brunette murmurs, and she's looking at Emma in such a way that she can't quite breathe properly. She doesn't know how she ever thought that telling the truth would make Regina run - she's got to stop underestimating this woman.
"You do," Emma whispers in response, eyes locked onto hers. It's not a question, she's just trying to process it, make it go into her frazzled brain.
"I do," Regina reaffirms it anyway.
They stare at each other, and both of them shift at the same time, moving closer so their legs are brushing and their faces are inches from each other's. Emma's heart pounds in her ears.
"What about the body?" Regina asks, tentative. She looks scared now, as if she's afraid of what this answer might do to shatter her.
Emma can only hope it doesn't.
Regina listens attentively through Emma's entire recount of events after she ran out of the shop. Their fingers remain laced together the entire time, Regina's fingers tightening around her own at points, and the brunette drinks in her explanation with a quiet desperation on her face. Emma's not sure what it is she's desperate for, but she has a feeling it might be for something to prove that the family she's become a part of isn't full of cold-blooded murderers.
"There was nothing else," Emma admits finally, keeping her emotions as tight lidded as she can. "He was gonna kill Ruby and I couldn't stop him and he was barely human and I just...god, I didn't want to Regina, I never wanted to, I just... I did what I had to. He wasn't even a person anymore, he was just a...a thing," she insists, because it''s the only way she'll ever sleep again.
The brunette gives her a long, appraising look. "I think perhaps we should start that tequila now."
Emma nods - she couldn't agree more.
Regina stands, dragging her hands away from the tangle they've become. She disappears through a door to their right, reappearing a few minutes later with shot glasses in her hands, limes, salt, and a knife floating in the air behind her.
Emma's sure that she'll never get bored of seeing Regina do magic. It's satisfying and beautiful and enchanting all at once.
"They're no margaritas," the brunette apologizes, "but I'm not sure I'm really in a margarita mood."
Emma takes a look at the shot glasses, then back to Regina. "Me either," she murmurs.
"Good."
Regina picks up the bottle and unscrews the cap, pouring out two large shots. Then she flicks her wrist and the knife slices the limes into a pile of neat little wedges. She pulls Emma's hand into her lap, shaking a line of salt down her wrist, then she looks back up to meet her gaze. "You first," there's a challenge in it, and Emma smirks because, god, Regina does like to make everything into a competition, doesn't she?
Emma's never been one to turn down challenges though, and without another second's hesitation, she dips her head to lick the salt from her wrist, reaching for the shot and knocking it back. Regina holds out her hand, lime wedge between her fingers for her to take, but instead Emma just leans forward and bites into it where it is, tongue flicking out to taste the juice that escapes onto Regina's fingers.
She looks up, and she's half scared of what Regina's expression might be doing. She's not totally prepared for what she finds. The brunette's eyes are hungry, and she licks her lips in a way Emma's sure is criminal. Any lingering doubts or confusion she had are eradicated with that one gesture, want curling hot in her stomach, and then she's moving again, reaching for the salt and shaking another line onto her arm.
She hands Regina the other shot. "Your turn," she whispers, and then presents her her forearm. The brunette takes a deep breath, her dark eyes are questioning for a moment, as if she's searching for more permission than Emma's extended arm. Emma shifts her body closer to her, reaching out with her free arm to take Regina's hand and twine their fingers back together again.
That seems to do the trick, because then her arm is being cradled by Regina's other hand, and there's a hot tongue licking up her wrist. She gets her arm back for the moment it takes the other woman to drink her shot, and uses the time to scoop up a piece of lime.
Regina pulls her hand to her mouth, biting into the wedge and licking the juice carefully off each of Emma's fingers. Then, catching the blonde's gaze again, she drops the tiniest of kisses to the inside of her wrist.
Emma melts.
It's the softest, most innocent gesture, and yet Regina somehow manages to make it absolutely filthy at the same time.
She reaches for the tequila to pour new shots, and in the meantime the brunette picks up the salt, reaching a hand up to pull her hair out of the way before shaking a little pile onto her shoulder. When Emma looks up again there's another challenge in Regina's eyes. She finds she's all too happy to accept it.
She repositions herself on the couch so her legs are underneath her, then she kneels up, leaning forward and steadying herself with hands on Regina's thighs. Her heart flutters as she lowers her mouth to the curve of the other woman's neck, enjoying the feel of the rough salt against the soft skin beneath it. Regina hands the shot to her, and she pulls back just far enough to meet the brunette's gaze before downing it.
Then she takes the lime from the hand offering it and squeezes it out onto the already wet patch where her tongue was mere seconds before.
She doesn't miss the way that Regina shudders as her tongue swipes across the skin of her shoulder, and then her nose is on the woman's neck and they're breathing each other in, and Regina's mouth is at Emma's ear and she feels her breathing speed up.
Regina's mouth moves, biting a tiny kiss into Emma's jaw in a gentle experiment before they both move as a unit, and then Regina's mouth is on hers and they're all lips and teeth and tongue and Emma moans because goddammit, she never knew a kiss could be this good.
Regina pulls her closer, arms wrapping around her neck. Emma can feel the heat from the other woman's body, and all she want is to feel more of it. To touch her and feel her and hold her impossibly closer. Emma's hands move to Regina's shirt and fumble with the buttons in her hurry to undo them.
She can't help marvelling that it took her so long to understand what she wanted, because it's clear to her as light of day. There's no doubt, no confusion. She knows with absolute certainty what it is she wants. She wants Regina.
The desire to feel more of the other woman is almost stifling, and when she manages the final button and pushes the shirt off, it's still not enough. Regina reaches around to grab the base of Emma's tank and yank it off her, then lowers her mouth to suck on a nipple through Emma's bra, making her squirm at the contact. Regina pushes gently until Emma's back is colliding with a couch cushion, then she makes a grab for the salt and shakes a line up Emma's taught stomach. She licks it off deftly, then reaches for the bottle of tequila.
Long minutes pass full of salt, and lime, and the burning feel of tequila on her body and in her throat, and at the end of them Emma's bra is halfway across the room and then Regina's somehow managed to rid her of her pants as well. The brunette's tongue licks salt off the inside of her thigh, and Emma feels desperate heat pooling in her center.
Regina swipes her tongue across Emma's lace covered core, eliciting a whine. Her fingers hook into the edge of the material, but then the blonde feels a moment of panic and her hand moves to Regina's, stilling it.
"Wait," she breathes, "wait wait wait."
The brunette looks up, frowning, and Emma pulls her back up her body so she can look into her eyes. "Do you forgive me?" it's hushed, and pained, and Emma's never felt so vulnerable in her life, but she needs to know. Because if this is all just the other woman trying to deal with everything's she's learnt, then the blonde can't do it. This is her offering her heart up on a plate, and she can't do that if Regina's just in denial.
Regina leans forward, pulling the sweetest of kisses from Emma's open mouth. "No," she breathes, and for a moment Emma's heart is clenching and she half wonders if this is what falling from a cliff feels like, but then the other woman continues, "not completely. Not about Henry yet."
She looks up and her dark gaze is burning with sincerity, but more importantly to Emma, it's burning with love. "But also yes. Yes I do, and yes I will. I'm not sure I have it in me not to."
That's all she needs, and she pulls Regina's mouth to hers, hard, nipping her gratitude into already swollen lips, and then Emma's breathing rate increases as Regina moves back again and her panties are tugged down.
"Regina," she breathes, voice shaking with need. The brunette's eyes move to meet hers once, a silent plea for permission, and Emma grinds her hips up in answer. Then the woman's tongue is caressing her entrance. She circles Emma's clit once with her tongue, and then she's pressing two fingers inside her, gentle but firm.
Emma's head falls back against the leather of the couch, a soft moan falling from her mouth, and Regina drops a kiss to the inside of her thigh, before thrusting up until she's knuckle deep inside her.
She moves her fingers at a steady pace for a minute before adding a third, and Emma arches into them, breathing heavy as she gets closer, grinding herself against them impatiently. The brunette pushes her hips back down, picking up the pace with her fingers before curling them inside her as she reaches up to to thumb her clit.
Regina leans over to kiss Emma as her orgasm hits her, swallowing her moans as she continues to move her fingers inside her. When she releases her mouth again, she's panting.
"Regina," she gasps, and she's not sure she can manage many other words now. Instead she reaches to claw at Regina's pants, making her intent as clear as possible. The brunette allows Emma to clumsily undo the suit trousers, then she stands, reluctantly removing her fingers from the blonde long enough to step out of them. Emma's eyes roam up and down Regina's half-naked body, and she feels another rush of heat in her core.
"Panties," she chokes out, there's not much command in it, but Regina complies anyway, slipping them off and then climbing back on top of her, grinding her hips down against Emma's.
The brunette's hands slip across Emma's stomach and down the inside of her thighs, pulling them apart, and licking up through the wetness coating them.
"You're so wet, Emma," she breathes and the awe in her voice has Emma squirming in anticipation. Regina happily obliges, licking along the length of her before pressing her tongue inside, licking at her walls with a skill that has Emma breathing hard and fast. She removes her tongue, replacing it with two long fingers, swiftly adding a third, and thrusting faster and harder until Emma's is shaking with release again, pulling Regina's body on top of her.
Emma pulls Regina's mouth to hers, and the kiss is sloppy but the brunette still lets out a whimper as Emma bites into her full lower lip.
"We need a bed," Emma whispers, and Regina presses a chaste kiss into her jaw.
"Whatever you want."
"I want your bedroom," the blonde reiterates. "I want to take you to bed," she wraps a leg around Regina's. Her voice is ragged, but she still manages to put some authority in it. "I want you to do that again," she murmurs, and then hesitates for a moment, nerves coiling in her stomach. Then much quieter, she says, "And I want to return the favor."
Regina whimpers against Emma's mouth as she pulls her into another crushing kiss.
"So?" the blonde asks.
The brunette stands, pulling Emma up onto shaky legs. "This way," she whispers, reaching forward to swipe her tongue across Emma's swollen lips, placing the softest of open mouthed kisses to it. Then she twines their fingers together and leads them up the darkened stairs.