N/A: We finally have an update! This might possibly be one of my shortest chapters simply because I had no idea what I was actually doing with it. Or, more importantly, Regina's POV so like usual, I winged it. Since Ana was busy, Clare stepped in and beta'd this for me. Thank you :) I was going to change this chapter in a lot of ways because of a certain subject it deals with and the posts I've seen about it. However, since that type of story had been with me since I began this, I decided just to go ahead with and hope you all accept my decision to make this happen- really, it was the direction I wanted it to go. As usual, I hope you guys enjoy this :)
Trigger Warning: Subtle reference of statutory rape.
Her eyes open slowly, still clouded from sleep. The unnecessarily sun light that shines through the window stings her eyes, her head throbs as she rolls over to the other side (the movement making the room spin and a dizziness form) throws the…blanket, towel thing over her head and shuts her eyes and tries to go back to sleep.
Yet, that doesn't seem possible.
So Mal reopens her eyes, ignoring the pulsing of her clearly hungover brain, and rolls onto her back.
Her eyes gaze rakes the ceiling, takes in the brush swirls that patterns the timbers, to the giant chandelier that hangs from the middle. She slowly moves her eyes to the walls covered in navy blue wallpaper, brings them down to the cream coloured fireplace and the photographs, and ornaments that cover the mantelpiece.
Then it hits her.
This isn't Killian's house.
At the realization, Mal shoots up….Then instantly regrets it. Her head screams, the room spins around quicker this time, and she taken over by an overwhelming wave of nausea. She shuts her eyes against it, calms herself down as her hungover idled brain tries to remember what happened the night before. Her brain begins piecing bits together: Merry coming over to her, Mal leaving Regina, Merry telling her that hewas asking for her.
The rest is a bit fuzzy, like how she ended up in hishouse, yet that was the least pressing issue.
Her main problem was where his precious wife and daughter were, the last thing Mal wanted (and needed) right now is for them to find her here.
Once the nausea and dizziness calms down, Mal slowly pushes away the blanket, kicks the rest of it off her legs with her feet. She grips the arm of the couch and tentatively tests standing up. Despite the fuzziness in her head, there's no nausea which seems to be a good sign. Mal takes her hand away from the hard fabric and begins sorting herself out. Hands hooking under the crumpled red dress, she pulls down the hem, straightening the material out when she notices her pinky toe in a complete mess. A broken blister sits on the side of it, the yellow-ey ooz-ey stuff all dried up from the night, and, from the pain she feels on the back of her ankle, it seems she also has a blister there. Well,she thinks as she tries to ignore the pain, let's hope he has some plasters somewhere.
Ignoring her feet, Mal begins making her way to the door, the floor boards cold on her already sore feet. She opens the door, peering out of it. It seems quiet, like nobodies home. Maybe they aren't. Maybe they're away, surely he wouldn't be stupidest enough to bring her back here with those two asleep?
No, he wouldn't! He's learnt that lesson...hopefully. The last thing Mal really needs right now is more trouble. Or...any trouble, instead.
She pushes the door open a bit more, stepping out of the main room and into the hallway. Everyone has to be gone, even if people were sleeping, (Mal realises she doesn't know what time it is) a house wouldn't be this quiet.
She takes a quick glance upstairs, all the light flooding through as she notices all the doors are open. Yep, they're definitely not asleep.Her eyes move to the little shelf above the radiator and that's when she sees it.
A little white piece of paper propped up against the transparent red candle holder. Feeling a surge of curiosity, Mal wanders over to it, picking the card up and opening it. Written in his handwriting, she begins smiling as she reads the letter addressed to her,
Mallory,
You're probably wondering how you got here. Don't worry, Merry Weather bought you over. I hadn't seen you in awhile and wanted to see how you were after….everything that happened. I'm sorry for all of that and I know letting you sleep here last night wasn't the best idea but I couldn't send you home...or wherever you are...in the state you were in. And if you're panicking that the other two will come back, don't worry about that either; Briar won't be home until later tonight and Aurora...apparently she's staying somewhere else. Either way, if you want to be safe, get yourself out by 3:00 PM. But until then, I guess you have the place to yourself.
And, if you're 'dying', there's some tablets in the cupboard in the bathroom for you.
Stefan.
Her eyes scan the letter once last time before she folds it and tucks it into her dress.
She moves away from the radiator she finds herself leaning against and makes her way upstairs, deciding to take up Stefan's suggestion and sort this hangover out.
...:...:...
Robin groans, refusing to open his eyes even a bit as he searches blindly for his phone. What idiot has decided to call him at this time in the morning?
His hand lands on the buzzing phone and Robin sighs as his picks it up from the bedside table. If he wants to know what idiot is calling him at this time in the morning, he guesses he needs to open his eyes.
And he does. The phone light burning his sleep-idled eyes as a name flashes on the screen one last time and be buzzing stops.
And surprise, surprise, it's his best friendKillian.
He clicks the call back button, bringing the phone to his ear and rolling onto his back as he wonders what the hell Killian is doing awake this time on a Saturday anyway?
Finally, the ringing stops and the twat answers.
"What?" asks Robin, still annoyed at being woken up at half six.
"Mate you need check Facebook now." Killian gushes almost instantly afterwards.
It doesn't take Robin long to figure out just why Killian wants him to look at Facebook. Fortunately (or unfortunately) Robin didn't get much of a chance to drink last night and the memories of what happened are still clear as day in his head. So no, he doesn't needto check Facebook yet he does so anyway.
He brings the phone away from his ear, clicks the loudspeaker button (though lowers the phone volume considerably- least he wakes his parents, he really doesn't fancy a (one sided) argument at half six) and clicks on the app that he barely uses.
He shouldn't be surprised at the photos that greet him, at the anger that increases as he scrolls through. It seems none of his friendsresisted the urge to post the pictures they took of him and the girl (Regina, he corrects) and Robin shakes his head.
As he's clicking the home button, Killian's voice sounds through again.
"Told you you'd be famous one day, didn't I?" And Robin's shaking his head again, sarcastically giving his friend a 'ha-ha'.
"Anyway that wasn't the reason I called you," Killian continues, his voice changing to a more serious note. "After you disappeared with your little lady friend-" and Robin doesn't miss the insinuation, imagines the eyebrows rising, and he could (not for the first time) punch the bastard in the face for it, he walked her home for Christ's sake!
"You left me with a shit ton of mess that needs to be cleaned before 12. So if you'd like to get your ass over here and help that would be great."
The call ends there, Killian ending it and Robin being the loyal friend he is, places his phone on the side and climbs out of bed and begins to get ready to the long trip back to Killian's.
...:...:...
She'd stopped doing work hours ago, her pen just swirling circles on the paper, turning them into flowers or other random things. Wasting ink, Mother called it; a habit Regina found herself doing a lot.
It tended to be when she couldn't focus. Her mind occupied with a plethora of other things. Just like today.
She knew one thing, though: she wasn't going to another party any time soon. The only reason she found herself trying to study in her room was because of the events which happened last night.
Since Regina came downstairs the others had giggled away in the corner. Close enough for her to hear them but away enough for her not to see what was so funny. Though she found out soon enough. Mary Margaret, the only one to take pity on her ignorance and showed her the photos.
And Regina has felt many things in her sixteen years. Anxiety, anger, hurt, betrayal, shame….most caused by her Mother, of course but the emotions that she feels now overrides all that.
She'll get over it, she tells herself. It's just a thing that will pass. Yet the laughter seems to get louder, the stares intensify and Regina's left with ears burning, cheeks reddening and anger and shame burning through it.
Mary Margaret had given her a sympathetic smile yet Regina hadn't had much time to register it before she was running back upstairs and slamming the door, wishing she was back home, away from all of it, and safe and tucked away with Daniel.
She'd collapsed by the door then, black sliding against it as she fell to the floor, head landing on her arms rest against her knees.
She'd had enough. She wanted to go home.
She'd been here a month and she wanted to go home.
But that didn't matter.
She wasn't going home. She was here. Here for as long as her mother seemed satisfied enough to free her.
If she was ever being freed.
"It's just because you're the new girl. It will get better soon. Easier."
Lost in her humiliation, Regina hadn't heard the door open. She turns her ahead to see Mary Margaret standing there looking sheepish, unsure whether to enter or not.
Regina turns away from her, scoffs and says; "And when will that be? When the next new girl arrives."
Mary Margaret misses the sarcasm. "Maybe. Or it'll happen much sooner. Point is, Regina, everyone earns their place. You'll get yours soon enough.