Author's note: Hi guys! Before this begins I just wanted to say a really quick thank you to everyone who's favourited or followed this story so far, and of course to all the people who've actually taken the time to send me a review. I'm a bit startled by the lovely things you've had to say - as this is my first fic I wasn't entirely sure how it would go down, so I'm really really happy that so many people are actually enjoying it! Thanks for reading and I hope you'll continue to like where I'm going with it.

And also: I've been updating this fairly regularly so far, but it might slow down a bit over the next few weeks. I'm in the middle of writing my dissertation and will start revising for my finals soon, so if I get a bit slow then please bear with me - I won't be happy about it either. Wish me luck...!


Chapter Eleven

A drop of water fell from the rotten roof and landed on Regina's temple, jolting her awake. She slapped it away, feeling a dampness in her hair that suggested that the roof had been leaking for some time before she'd noticed, before opening her bleary eyes to the rest of the room. It was light outside: the storm had passed and it was early morning once again. The fire had burned itself out many hours before. Yawning, Regina wrinkled her nose and tried to stretch out her arms, frowning when she felt something tugging them back. She blinked. It was then that she felt the weight of another pair of arms wrapped around her waist and the warm exhalation of breath against the back of her neck.

Oh God. She froze. Oh no.

She slowly dragged her dark eyes across her shoulder, trying to look behind her without turning her head. It didn't take long before the flash of blonde hair slipped into her field of vision and she gasped out loud, clapping a hand across her mouth - her mouth that was still swollen and tingling from the events of the night before. She rolled her eyes to the ceiling, cursing herself and her stupidity and the irresponsible, awkward, awful woman who was currently lying behind her with her bare leg draped loosely across both of her own.

Managing to wriggle free of Emma's grip, Regina sucked in a breath and sat herself upright. Emma mumbled something in her sleep, pulling her legs up to her chest. Regina watched her with a flat expression until she fell still again. A heavy dread was sinking in her stomach and she could feel the corners of her mouth being dragged down with it, her throat scratching whenever she swallowed. She looked up towards the broken front door, at the horses grazing just outside, and wondered whether she could get up and run before Emma had stirred. No other plan struck her as being in any way more rational: a cold, jarring terror was stabbing at her insides and she could feel herself shuddering away from Emma any time she wriggled in her sleep, her breath catching in her lungs. With every passing second her pathetic escape route looked more and more appealing, even as she glanced back down at the mess of blonde hair spread out beside her. Regina sucked in a breath through trembling lips, and began to force herself to stand up.

A snuffle came from beneath Emma's curls. She gently stretched out her arms, and her hand knocked against Regina's. Still sleeping, her prying fingers laced their way through the queen's and stayed there, her thumb rubbing a gentle circle against the inside of her wrist. Regina blinked, choking back a moan. She scrubbed her free hand beneath her eyes, looking down at the chaos of blonde hair and the stubborn angles of Emma's body, and the terror that had been drumming within the tight muscles of her stomach began to lessen ever so slightly. Emma wriggled once more, drawing their interlaced fingers closer so that she could nuzzle a sleepy cheek against them. A tender smile tugged at the corners of Regina's mouth.

Slipping back down onto the blankets, she turned to face Emma with only the tight knot of their hands separating their foreheads. There was silence for a few moments and Regina let her eyes dart across the other woman's face, taking in the deep creases that were carved about her eyebrows and the lighter ones that crinkled around her nose whenever she moved. Even as she slept her tongue would flick out and gently wet her lips. Regina watched her with sadly knitted eyebrows - she was so irritatingly beautiful. As she watched Emma sleep she felt something tapping sharply against the inside of her chest, and she knew in an instant the reason why she had let last night happen. She didn't allow herself to dwell on it, however. Instead she slowly reached out a hand and pushed a strand of hair away from Emma's face, watching as her eyebrows creased together and she gradually began to stir.

She opened her eyes and was immediately met with the anxious pout on Regina's face. Before she was even fully awake her head shot back half an inch, her fingers automatically tugging themselves free from the queen's. Regina watched the memory of the previous night flash across her green eyes and she swallowed, waiting for Emma to throw the blankets from her and tear towards the door, ready to run in the very same way that she had been prepared to only minutes before. She shut her eyes as she waited for the footsteps. When there were none, she cracked them open once more and found that Emma was still frowning at her with unfathomable confusion carved into the lines around her mouth.

Regina took a deep breath and then she smiled, feeling her lips quivering as she did so. Emma's breath caught in her throat. She watched the warmth spreading across the queen's face and for a moment forgot whom she was laying with, whose dark eyes were pinning her down. The sad smile gradually slipped from Regina's mouth; the same mouth that twelve hours before had done things to her that had nearly driven Emma hysterical, and before she registered what she was doing, her own thin lips quirked upwards at one side.

She reached out a hand, taking a strand of Regina's hair between two of her fingers and pushing it back from her face. She watched as a blush raced into her cheeks. This close, the scar that cut across the slash of her mouth was painfully obvious, and Emma didn't think before reaching out her thumb and dragging it down the white line. Regina pursed her lips and kissed the pad of her finger as it passed.

Emma's eyes crinkled as she smiled properly for the first time that morning. 'Hi.'

Regina's dark eyebrows curved upwards with relief.

'Good morning,' she murmured, squeezing Emma's fingers between her own and closing her eyes.


Henry clambered back through the bedroom window just as the sun had begun to drain its way through the nearby trees. Unlike the previous days, however, his bottom lip was jutting sharply downwards in the same way that his mother's did when she was worried. As he perched himself on the edge of his bed the bow that had been clutched in his hand fell to the wooden floor with a clatter, and he didn't attempt to catch it. Instead he nudged it further away from him with the toe of his shoe, watching it skid across the floorboards and land with a clunk in the far corner of the room.

His lessons with Robert were still going well. Henry was realising more and more, with every arrow that he shot, that he was well and truly a natural at this – his aim was better than Robert's was, and that was without the fancy arrows that somehow managed to change their own course of direction whenever they felt like it. That morning Henry hadn't missed a single target and the sense of triumph that beat against his chest had been overwhelming. The joy of the moment, however, was quickly disrupted when he realised that he had no one to share his happiness with.

The dull repetition of Robert's words – 'Nice shot' – did nothing for him anymore, simply because he knew that the enormous man wasn't interested. Not really. Every lesson he would allow Henry to shoot exactly ten arrows, easing himself back into the comfortable routine of his new-found talent, before suddenly the questions would start. At first they appeared to be mere curiosities – eventually Henry was forced to realise that Robert was after actual information.

'So where exactly did this curse take everyone?' had been his main question of that morning. 'Where have you and Regina lived all of this time?'

Henry's answers had grown progressively less detailed and the creases in his brow had simultaneously deepened. Every question that Robert asked seemed to be about the same things – about Regina, or Emma, or Snow, and whether it was likely that they'd come and find him soon. How they'd get there. How they'd get back. Henry didn't know the answer to a lot of these and by the end of their lesson he had begun to reply with small shrugs, focusing more intently on the arrows that he was shooting into the far distance. Robert's impatience had swelled like a tide.

Now Henry was alone once more, and he realised that he was uncomfortable. Worse than that: he was suspicious. Robert was clearly after something that had nothing whatsoever to do with teaching him how to shoot and, for the first time since he had arrived in the forest, he wished that he had listened to Red when she had told him to stay away.

He felt the crackle of tears from beneath his eyelids and sighed, looking about his lonely room. It was small, and held nothing that was in any way his. It was nothing like his room in the Mayor's mansion – nothing even like the box room in Emma's tiny apartment. As he thought of those two women a hot tear seeped out from beneath his lashes and he swallowed, feeling a hard lump pressing against his throat. He knew how much he missed them, but he hated himself for it. He hated them for it. He tore his quiver of arrows off of his back and hurled it against his pillows just as the door creaked open, Red's worried frown appearing from the other side.

When she sat down beside him and gathered her arms about his shoulders, he let himself fall into her, sobbing blindly. Red didn't say a word, stroking at his hair as he unleashed his rage against the two women who had loved him and fought for him and then betrayed him through the flood of salty tears that dripped down his flushed cheeks. Red squeezed him more tightly to her chest, feeling the heat that radiated from him and sighing to herself. She knew how he felt – he was devastated, and he was lonely. She hadn't wanted to admit it to herself but, after only a few days of being back in this withered, unrefined world, she was feeling the ache of seclusion as well. She thought about Snow, about Emma, about Ashley and Archie and the countless other people whom they'd left behind, and buried a kiss into the sweaty mess of hair on top of Henry's head. He squeezed his arms more tightly about her waist. They rocked from side to side for a long time, both of their eyes fiercely shut as they blocked out the sounds of the woods and the quiet and the dull hum of nothing going on in a world to which they obviously didn't belong any more.


The horses trudged deeper into the forest, the ground sodden and slippery beneath their hooves. The two women on top of them sat in a comfortable silence as they moved, no longer riding one behind the other but remaining firmly side by side as they edged through the trees.

Emma glanced to her left for the tenth time that morning, her eyes yet again being impulsively drawn to the dark red smudge that scarred the queen's neck. If she looked for long enough, she could just make out the teeth marks surrounding it. Regina obviously didn't know that it was there and Emma sniggered to herself, for the first time on their journey thanking the forest for its inability to provide them with a mirror. Regina heard the soft laugh and looked across at her, watching the blush spreading across the blonde's face with a twisted smile. Her dark eyes fell down to Emma's collar bone, absorbing the line of three bruises that grew progressively darker as they reached towards the most tender spot of her throat. She bit on her bottom lip to stop herself from cackling and turned away once more, feeling the burn of Emma's gaze following her.

Emma's spirits were high enough that the throbbing pain of her shoulder had lessened, and so when she pulled an arrow out of the quiver that was strung across her back and shot it wordlessly through the trees, it struck the animal that she had spotted before Regina had even heard the leaves rustling. The queen stared round at her as she leapt from her horse, battling through the undergrowth in order to claim her prize. It was a bird, and it was enormous. It could easily feed the both of them for the at least their next two meals.

'Fancy some lunch, your majesty?' she asked, squinting up at Regina. The queen nodded, and Emma mounted her horse once more. The pair of them rode on for the next few minutes until they found a clearing big enough for the horses to rest in, and then they settled down into their new routine: Emma began to tear the bird into pieces, while Regina struggled with building the fire.

Once the bird had been gutted and was roasting on the fire that Regina had crudely constructed, Emma sat herself down next to the stream that they had been following through the forest and, dipping her bare feet into the shallow water, began scrubbing the blood and dirt from her hands. Regina remained by the fire, watching her, and growing progressively more agitated as she realised just how badly she wanted to go over to her. She bit her lip, desperately trying to think of a reason to need to speak to her. The usually unflappable mayor hated this feeling; this sense that the words rattling about in her brain were too clunky to fit in her mouth, and she sighed to herself. Why on earth was she nervous to speak to her in the first place? What was it about this ridiculous woman that suddenly had her tripping over her own tongue?

Regina immediately found herself thinking of Emma's own tongue and what she had done to her with it, and she sucked a breath in through her teeth. This was ridiculous: she hardly had to have a reason to want to talk to her. She pushed herself to her feet and began to stride over towards Emma's turned back, when suddenly the saddle bags resting on the floor near the horses caught her eye. The water canteens – they surely needed filling anyway. She adjusted her course and slipped over to the tree that the bag was resting up against, pulling it open and beginning to rummage around inside it for the bottles. Her hands found them and she stood upright once more, turning around to resume her path to the pathetic stream. She was immediately faced with the half-smile of Emma Swan, stood only inches away from her with her hands on her hips. Before Regina could say a word the blonde stepped forwards, grabbing hold of her waist with hands still cold from the water, and pushed her back against the tree.

She kissed her more softly than she had done the night before, her tongue teasing against her teeth while her hands gently stroked at her stomach beneath her shirt. Regina moaned quietly, dropping the empty bottles to the floor and wrapping her arms around Emma's neck. The weight of the her body pressed against her, digging her into the rough bark of the tree. She ran a hand over the blonde curls that were tumbling across both of their shoulders and sighed into Emma's mouth, dipping her tongue in further until the anxious weight that had been dragging her stomach down all morning finally lifted and she felt like she was rising slowly above the sodden ground.

Emma's teeth bit down on the queen's bottom lip, sucking at it for a moment before slowly pulling her face away. Regina's eyes snapped open, looking into her amused expression and smiling, before leaning forwards to try and capture her mouth once more. Emma tugged her head back yet again, keeping her grinning lips out of her reach.

'What is it?' Regina purred, running a thumb underneath the blonde curls until she found the soft spot of skin beneath Emma's ear that she already knew was her kryptonite. Emma's eyes momentarily closed, her lips parting as she sucked in a gasp of air. Regina ran a sharp nail down the spot until the gasp turned into a reluctant moan, and then she let go. Emma opened her eyes once more, laughing to herself.

'Do you think we've been wanting to do this all along?' she asked. Her hands were still holding onto Regina's waist, the lower half of her body thrust forwards and resting against the brunette's. The corner of Regina's mouth quirked upwards into a hopeless smile.

'It would certainly explain why I've always found you so infuriating,' she said, raising an eyebrow. 'In any case, it would have made your first year in Storybrooke slightly more enjoyable.'

A laugh burst forth from Emma's mouth and she quickly leaned back in for another kiss, nibbling at Regina's lip as she did so. She felt the queen's mouth smiling beneath hers.

'Come on,' Regina said when they finally pulled away once more, their noses bumping. 'I'm starving, and if you've destroyed that bird then I'll be expecting you to go and catch another one.'

Emma rolled her eyes and let herself be led back over to the fire, not bothering to supress the smile that was tugging at the corners of her mouth.

As they were eating their meal, finally finishing off the stale remains of the food that the servants had packed for them, Emma asked how long it would be until they reached their first stop. Regina wrinkled her nose, thinking back to the tiny spot marking Granny and Red's cottage on the map, its inked lines smeared by yesterday's rain storm.

'Not long,' she said, swallowing her mouthful. 'Another few hours. Maybe less, if we move quickly and stop getting quite so distracted.'

She watched as Emma smirked. Her gaze then fell to the ground as she nodded. 'Right.'

The pair fell into another silence, thinking about what would happen if they reached Granny's house and Henry was in fact there. Regina pursed her lips for a moment. The sharp rush of relief and sadness that simultaneously struck at her chest confused her, and she shook her head to try and get rid of it.

Eventually Emma spoke up once more, still looking down at the dark stains of blood and dirt that covered her arms and clothes. 'It would be really nice if I could actually have a wash before then, though,' she said with a faint laugh. 'Henry won't be especially pleased to see us as it is – if I show up looking and smelling like the bottom of Pongo's basket then I'm thinking that getting a hug off of him is going to be even less likely.'

Regina smiled. 'Well, there's a stream right over there, dear. Help yourself.'

'Regina, the water's like two inches deep: as much as I'm sure you'd enjoy watching, I don't think me thrashing about in that is going to make a whole load of difference.'

A bark of laughter escaped from Regina's lips and she tilted her head back to the sky. Emma joined in, rolling her eyes as she returned to what was left of her food.

'I'm sure it'll meet a river at some point,' Regina finally offered, taking a drink of water. 'Don't worry. You'll be fresh and smelling of fake leather and alcohol again before you know it.'

Emma looked up, raising both of her eyebrows. 'Oh, thanks so much,' she drawled out. 'By the way, apple trees can grow in this forest, can't they? Maybe we should find you a few. We can try and make you a real, organic shampoo to satisfy your apparent fetish for them. I can only assume that it's your withdrawal that's making you so crabby?'

The queen raised a sharp middle finger to the blonde woman and they both sniggered once more, finishing off what remained of their lunch. As she swallowed her last mouthful, Emma nodded to herself.

'That was terrible,' she said, wiping her hands free of bird grease on her knees.

'Agreed,' Regina replied, drinking some more water. 'So I suppose we should be grateful that we'll be at Granny's soon. We could be home sooner than we think.'

Emma nodded in response, but her heart wasn't in it. She was desperately looking forwards to seeing Henry again – she couldn't quite bring herself to think about him, in fact, because the pain of remembering that he wasn't near her made her heart ache dully for the few minutes that followed. But… finding Henry meant going back to Storybrooke. And Storybrooke was quite a different place to this forest, in so many ways.

As they wrapped up the rest of the bird and climbed back onto their horses, Regina threw an optimistic smile across at her. She returned it with half of its original fire. Her green eyes watched as the woman whom she had once punched in the face began to ride away, and shuddered at the sadness that washed over her. Storybrooke was a hell of a lot different to this forest. Things changed in Storybrooke. She squeezed her heels against George's sides and let him catch up with her, her hand longing to reach out and grab Regina's, holding onto it tightly. Instead it sat lonely before her, where she knew it would be forced to remain the very second that they stepped foot back onto the hard concrete reality of Main Street, most likely never to hold it again.