Disclaimer: I own neither the characters nor the rights to Once Upon a Time.
Chapter Eleven - Analyze This
Emma had trouble sleeping at night.
It had been several days since the attack and Emma's anger was just as fresh as the bruises on her body. All those nights she spent crying herself to sleep, not one of them was graced with a visit or an apology. It was apparently too much to ask from a woman who almost choked her to death and nearly crushed her body with invisible restraints.
Since that fateful night she had not seen or spoken to Regina and the thought of doing so made her sick. Every time she got the urge to go to the mansion and get some answers or give the woman a little taste of her own rage Emma's wounds stung. Her entire upper body was covered in bruises, leaving the area sensitive to the slightest contact. It hurt like hell but the disappointment blazed with more intensity. After all, she had been fantasizing about gasping for air in an entirely different context than the kind she was faced with that night. The disappointment gripping her insides had never been so consuming. She was upset with Regina for not trying harder and just as frustrated with herself for believing she could. Regina was capable of many things, but change was obviously not one of them.
Although Emma refused to see the mayor she had not abandoned her duty as a mother. She ensured every way possible to take care of her son without having to run into his adoptive mother, and Henry wasted no time in telling her how odd Regina had been acting (although Emma could care less). According to Henry, she had been avoiding him. Whenever it came time to leave for school she would send him off on the bus instead of driving him. She came home late every night not bothering to check on him and when she happened to speak to him it was in a snapping tone. Whatever love and affection that was present before was gone now. Henry was hurt and confused at this behavior. The boy actually thought he had done something wrong, so he went to Emma for an explanation.
He was let down.
Emma had attempted to give reasons for Regina's recent actions, but in the end there was nothing to defend. It was like Regina had returned to her old self again. And there was not a single thing there worthy of forgiveness.
Clearly nothing had sunk into that thick head of hers, Emma thought, or she wouldn't be pushing her son away.
She remembered back to what she had accused Regina of doing; pushing away the people that cared for her until they were dead or gone. It was predictable of her to close herself off when Henry and Emma had begun to care about her. It was predictable because Emma had been doing it all her life. The difference was Emma had learned her mistake. When she left Henry it was for his protection. She realized - after coming back to him and seeing him scared and upset - that it was her presence not her absence that made him safer. His happiness depended on her and, as a result, Emma made a promise to herself and her son that leaving would never again be an option. Regina was not learning from her mistake, though.
"Oh Emma, you're here," replied Mary Margaret happily.
Great, the blonde thought as she closed the apartment door behind her.
"Hi, Mary Margaret." Emma tried to mask her frustration with a cheerful tone. "I'm just here to pick up Henry's textbook. He left it here the other day." Emma walked briskly to the couch, checking between cushions and behind pillows. "Have you seen it by chance?"
Mary Margaret didn't move from her place at the kitchen; she continued sipping her tea and watching Emma tear apart their living room. "You mean this book?" She lifted the math textbook and indicated with a raised brow. When she found it lying under the couch that morning she had a feeling Emma would return in search of it. Henry must have left the book behind in a hurry the other day and Mary Margaret had to wonder if there was an ulterior motive in doing so. Whatever the reason, she would have to thank the boy for giving her this window of opportunity.
"There it is," Emma said as she put the pillows back in their original position. When she got to the kitchen she made an attempt to grab the book but Mary Margaret held it back.
"We should talk," the teacher declared.
"I'm in kind of a rush. Can we do this later tonight?"
"I would say yes, but knowing you don't come home until after midnight when I'm already asleep… what would be the point?"
The tension that had existed between the two women seemed to hit Emma with tremendous force. She had encountered a discouraged Mary Margaret before but not when it was concerning their relationship.
Mary Margaret explained, "What I agree to is irrelevant as you will just avoid me at every turn."
"I'm not avoiding you," Emma countered. The frown she was receiving let her know that it was not an adequate lie. "Listen, I know we haven't talked just you and me in a while. I'm sorry about that, Mary Margaret, I really am, but I have to get to the station now." Emma wrested the textbook away.
"No." The reply was firm and had the tone of a mother reprimanding her child. Mary Margaret was afraid that it sounded too harsh, but when it made Emma stop in her tracks she gave herself a mental pat on the back. There was something strangely exciting about the way she was ordering Emma around. It felt right to go all parental on her, she thought, which is odd because I am far from Emma's mother. "No, you are not leaving until I know what is going."
"What makes you think something is going on?" pressed the blonde.
"Well, um," the short woman stuttered around her words as she was put on the spot, "you haven't exactly been very happy lately." Mary Margaret nodded surely as if that was all the evidence she needed. Emma continued to wait for more of an explanation. "Aaaand you've been working later hours at the station. I'm sure there's something there that needs explaining."
Emma snorted. "So I spend a few days overnight at the office and you think that is reason to call an intervention?"
"What about the fact that you haven't been speaking to Regina?"
"How did you know that?" Emma shot back.
"This is a small town if you hadn't noticed." Mary Margaret took a sip from her mug, slightly proud of her skills at weeding through the gossip that had been making the rounds. "Were you going to tell me?"
"What is there to tell?"
"That you and Regina have been fighting about Henry again. I know it's happened before, but I thought you two worked out a solution. It seemed to be working."
"Wait, you think this is about Henry?"
"So there is something going on?" Mary Margaret wasn't exactly relieved that there was a problem, in yet she couldn't help feeling pleased that her instincts were right.
"I didn't say that," Emma defended, suddenly getting anxious about where the conversation was moving, "but if there was something going on, what makes you think it's regarding Henry?"
"What else would it be about?" asked Mary Margaret. Then something struck her. "Were you and Regina arguing over –"
Emma interrupted hurriedly, "Absolutely n –"
" – your relationship?" the short woman finished, putting her mug down suddenly.
"God, why do people keep assuming Regina and I are together?" sighed the blonde. She sat down heavily into a chair at the dining table. The frustration was evident on her face for her eyes were darting across the floor as if searching for an answer.
Mary Margaret wasn't sorry for hitting that particular nerve because it was the only effective solution in getting her friend to stop running. She gave an encouraging smile and said softly, "It's nothing to be ashamed of."
"There is nothing going on between Regina and I," grumbled the blonde. A head was propped against her non-injured palm. She had been extra secretive about the wounds she had sustained; the turtlenecks and long sleeves were proof. The bandaged hand was explained away by a quick account of her run in with a particularly sharp letter opener (an unforeseen hazard of her job). "I can assure you there is no truth behind the gossip."
The school teacher studied her for a moment and moved to sit in the nearest chair. "But you want something to be there."
Emma bit her lip and looked up. "I used to. Not anymore."
"You don't sound very certain."
"It doesn't matter what I want," she sighed. "I've tried like hell to see the good in her. For a time it seemed like she had changed, but she won't give." The blonde messaged her upper arm. "There's nothing left to hold on to."
"That's not entirely true." Emma gave her a perplexed expression. If Regina ever finds out that I told Emma, the teacher warned herself, I am going to be on her bad side for eternity. She continued slowly, "Not long ago Regina and I got into an argument. It was about you."
"Uh-huh," Emma said, leaning forward. "Go on."
"Well, you hadn't been talking to me and I wanted to know how you were so I asked Regina. Knowing you two had, at the time, become uncommonly civil with one other I figured she might have some answers."
"I know about this. She came to me all in a huff because you were bothering her about the state of our friendship."
"I was asking her because I was worried about you. It just happened to be that she was right."
If Emma's interest wasn't peaked before it certainly was now. "Right about what?"
"Me." The woman looked down at her feet. "She said you deserved a better friend than me."
Emma sat back; shocked that Regina would have the audacity to accuse Mary Margaret of being so callous. She also couldn't help but feel floored that the brunette would come to her defense. "Mary Margaret…"
"No," The teacher waved her off, "Regina may hate my guts and I'm actually okay with that, but she spoke the truth. It hurts," she took in a breath and let it out, "but she was right."
"It's not your fault. I was the one ignoring you, pushing you out." Emma gaped at the irony of what she said. It was only minutes before that she was blaming Regina for pushing people away; now the blonde was admitting to the same error, again. Obviously, the mayor wasn't the only one incapable of change. "If anyone needs to apologize it's me. I started this mess. I put our friendship in jeopardy. You have every right to be angry with me."
"I just want to put this behind us and go back to the way things were."
Emma would agree with her, but the true nature behind her behavior the past few months was still not safe to reveal. The urge to expose their true familial connection was tempting. The whole conversation they were having resembled a mother/daughter bonding session. Emma's life was lacking in these moments and now that she had gotten a taste of some motherly advice she didn't want it to end. It was hard to admit, but lately Emma desperately needed a mother.
"As long as you are around I'm going to try to be a better friend." A warm hand was placed on Emma's. "You deserve so much, Emma."
The blonde heard the words her mother was saying. A tear escaped and she hid it with a swipe of her hand. She knew Mary Margaret would keep her promise. Emma squeezed the hand in hers. "We'll both try harder."
They exchanged a smile. Mary Margaret looked at the time and went for her school bag. Before leaving she advised, "Just remember, Emma, whatever happens between you and Regina will affect Henry. You might get away with avoiding me, but you cannot do so with the Mayor of Storybrooke, especially when she is the mother of your child."
The blonde nodded reluctantly. "But we both know she isn't very approachable." She paused and added, "And I'm not ready to forgive her. I don't even know if that's possible."
"Then you have to find a way. You can't hate her forever. I know you, Emma."
At the close of the door the blonde let out a long sigh and slouched back in her chair. Her hand went to her blood-shot eyes to rub away the insomnia.
Motherly advice was a bitch.
She didn't like it but Mary Margaret was right about her not being able to hate the mayor forever. Emma now knew what she had to do. The plan wasn't ideal or expected, but if she wanted to know what was going on inside Regina's head there was only one person who had the answers. Extreme measures would have to be taken, yet maybe, just maybe, Emma's pain could be healed in the process.
Regina's restless state was abruptly interrupted by a knock at her door. The nights had been slumberless, causing the days to blend together and her mind and body to become out of sync. If she closed her eyes for too long violent images would disturb her into opening them again. For the first time in 28 years she had called in sick to the office so she could get some much needed shut eye.
The sunlight peeked behind closed curtains, beckoning her to wake. The knocking resumed and a startled mayor left her robe on the bed to see who was behind her bedroom door.
She had expected to see Henry, but was shocked to find her blonde sheriff standing with a closed fist in mid-knock. The woman was clothed informally in sweatpants and a tank top. Regina looked her up and down and noticed the injuries. The sleeveless shirt revealed muscular arms discolored in ugly yellow and black bruises. Her neck was encircled with a thick angry red strip much like a collar. Dark rings underlined once bright green eyes making her look sleep deprived. The battered figure before Regina appeared weary and desperate. I did this, she thought to herself as she took in the sight of her magic's work.
"W-what are you doing here?" She attempted to ask it in a firm tone, but it inevitably came out as broken and cracked as her own heart.
Emma's voice was equally fragmented. "I want you to heal me." Her eyes began to glisten. Tears illuminated red inflamed veins from lack of sleep.
The brunette reached forward without a thought and placed a hand on the injured shoulder. A gasp caught in both their throats as her thumb caressed a dark blemish. She tried to clear her mind and fixate on healing the spot.
"No, not like that," Emma whispered to a frowning Regina. "Heal me like this." And she kissed the confused face of the other woman.
Regina's lips let out a muffled groan of surprise and then opened at the moving of the blonde's own insistent lips. This was so wrong. The thought slipped from her mind like sand through a sieve. Even if she followed her judgment in saying 'no' there simply wasn't any room to because Emma's tongue was in the way. Regina's mouth became wholly compliant with Emma's as a tongue stroking languidly at her own. Leaning into the kiss Regina allowed the injured frame to press up against her own.
With mouths not leaving one other Emma dragged her to the edge of the bed. She took Regina by the scruff of her pajama collar and pulled them both down onto sleep-worn sheets.
"Emma," she said breathlessly into the desperate mouth. Regina pushed herself up and leaned back.
"Don't," Emma whined. She grabbed the mayor's wrists and placed the palms under the material covering her toned stomach. The tank rippled up at the pushing of hands. Applying pressure in the desired location Emma kept the palms under hers. "I need this."
Regina's breath hitched unexpectedly and before she knew what she was doing she felt her body press willingly against the bruised and broken form under her. She returned Emma's kiss with an equally long grazing of lips filled with apology and yearning.
Emma's hands directed Regina's up a heaving torso and climbed the steep hill of lace covered breasts. The brunette allowed her palms to be pressed generously against the valleys as her fingers curled up and over the edge of lace, feeling for entrance. Regina didn't seem to have any control over her body's response to the blonde beauty under her. The hands and fingers clearly knew what they wanted and never once faltered in carrying out what they desired, yet her mind didn't feel in sync with their movements. It was like Regina was experiencing the moment as a third party, gazing down on two writhing forms on her bed.
She squeezed her lids further shut and ruggedly exhaled into Emma's mouth. Dark nipples peaked under her sweaty, kneading grasp. Regina dragged a wet mouth away from red, kiss-worn lips to gaze upon her once enemy, her son's biological mother, her sheriff and confidante, her… What else? Regina asked herself, what is Emma to me now?
"Hey, don't do that. Don't stop." Irritation flashed across Emma's face. "I want you so bad. I've always wanted you this way. Didn't you know?" The younger woman reached out and crashed their lips together, tongue darting forcefully inside without warning.
The brunette felt hands brace her to grinding hips. A loud moan came from below. Regina pulled away again despite her body's trembling for more. Her voice was weathered with concern. "Emma, this isn't like you. Are you alright?"
The impatience that showed behind green orbs before was nothing compared to the anger that replaced it.
"Look at me!" Emma shouted. "Do I look alright?!"
Regina indeed looked at her and felt the shame burn so bright her chest pitched. Never in all the years of practicing magic did she regret using her powers. Not until that night. She had taken her anger out on the one person - the only person - who was trying to help her. She started, "I –"
"You need to heal me," the blonde demanded. Regina's wrists were grabbed a second time, but rougher. "God, just do it." Emma squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed against the brunette, letting out a frustrated groan. "Fuck me, Regina."
The brunette denied the forceful request by ripping her bruised wrists back with a grunt.
"You really are an evil witch," Emma snarled, pushing the woman back as if she were a sickness. A creeping shadow passed over the young woman's eyes, hooding her in darkness. "First you attack me, and then you refuse to help me. Who are you going to hurt next, Henry?"
Regina trembled in fear; whether it was a result of the accusation of hurting her son or the unrecognizable woman before her she couldn't know. "Emma –"
"Because you will! You will hurt him like you hurt countless others. Pain is the only gift you have to give. You are a disease." Emma's eyes filled like black pools and glared threateningly into Regina's. Her voice was no longer Emma's, but the voice of two speaking at once; it sounded gravelly and inhuman. "With his little heart beating bloody in your grasp the Evil Queen will crush it, squeezing till it beats no more."
"No!" Regina wailed.
Her body shot up from beneath the covers. In a panic, she took in her surroundings. Emma was nowhere in sight. Closing her eyes she took in a few deep breaths to calm her racing heart.
The running faucet squeaked noisily as beads traveled down Regina's skin. A few splashes of water did nothing to cool her down for she would instantly break out into a clammy state. Glowering into the bathroom mirror she took in the sight of her flushed cheeks and the dark lines circling her eyes.
It was not the first time she experienced something of this nature. Not so long ago a dream brought an angry mob of townspeople to her door and Emma clutching her throat as she stood tied against her own tree. This recent dream, however, was recurrent and much more pervading; it haunted her day and night.
The nightmare first came to her the eve she attacked Emma. She woke up screaming and immediately went to Henry's room to find him gone. He was still on his sleepover, so there was no way she could have harmed him like Emma had foretold in the dream. She didn't know which was worse: rousing from her dream alone and frightened or Henry waking to her screams.
That was not the only occurrence of the nightmare and each time she woke up with a different reaction. Unlike the first dream the second one aroused her. It was no surprise for she was aware of the attraction between herself and Emma. From time to time she had imagined the taste of Emma's lips and the warmth of her skin. Her heart pounded every moment they were close to one another, so close that a caress could be exchanged if she so desired. And Regina desired to. Even before their alliance and subsequent friendship Regina wanted Emma Swan. She feared this desire, yet came to embrace it to a point where she never spoke of it. This realization struck her at the most inopportune time, though, for there had been no beautiful, blonde haired woman lying beside her to give relief from the nightmare.
The third occurrence of the nightmare brought on frustration. She woke with the same sinking fear and lusting desire, but this time it was taken with annoyance. Of all the fears that plagued her it was the thought of harming those closest to her that cut deepest. Like a broken knife leaving flesh, the dream left a small point that festered and spread uncertainty. The dread then proceeded to travel through her blood to a place she thought never existed: her heart.
Her gaze shifted away from the mirror. She ran a damp hand through tousled brown hair and wiped the sweat forming on her brow. Before returning to bed eyes went back to the image of her weak, miserable twin and asked a question she grew tired of hearing:
When was it going to stop?
"Emma! What a surprise."
The blonde gave Dr. Hopper a shy smile and walked in at the man's insistence.
"I apologize for not calling ahead, but it's kind of an emergency. I hope you don't mind."
"Not at all," Archie said. He gestured towards the couch. "Please sit down."
She crossed her legs after settling on the couch and then uncrossed them after a moment and placed her hands awkwardly on her thighs. Getting comfortable seemed to be a bit of a chore. The fact that she was willingly seeking out a shrink made her tense and the reason she was there in the first place caused her to be on edge all the more.
"I don't normally do this. Talk about stuff I mean."
"Stuff?" Archie inquired.
"Thoughts, feelings, things one would divulge to a total stranger."
"I can assure you, Emma, whatever you say here is in the strictest confidence."
"It's just that I've always had this aversion to therapy," she admitted. She tucked her hands under her thighs to prevent further fidgeting. "When I was in foster care I was sent to a few psychologists, and when I say 'sent' I mean 'forced against my will.'"
"Is that why you're here, about your childhood in the foster system?"
"No, not really. I'm here about…" Emma hesitated, "…about someone."
Archie adjusted his spectacles. "O-okay. Can you be more specific?"
"Right." She stared at Archie, trying to find the words. "I have this… friend. We didn't start out as friends; in fact, it was pretty much the opposite. Over time we became close – or as close as they allowed me."
"Go on," he encouraged, "you're doing fine."
Emma nodded and continued, "Our friendship has turned into something complicated. There may be feelings there, but that isn't the issue, not right now." Shaking her head she knew without a doubt that she did care for Regina. Ever since the mayor came to reveal Henry's suspicions over his parents' feelings for one another Emma had been turning the possibility in her mind. Ultimately, she wouldn't have been sitting in a shrink's office talking about Regina if those feelings didn't exist. "You see, my friend has a very tortured past. I don't know what exactly happened, but it's starting to get in the way of – of our happiness?" Emma said it like it was a question. She was hesitant to call it that after what Regina did to her just days ago.
If happiness was what they had experienced the past two months, Emma thought, then Regina wouldn't have thrown it away so thoughtlessly.
"What do you mean by tortured past?" the man asked. "Has this friend revealed what happened to them?"
"I do know some things. Nothing specific enough to understand why they are acting this way." Emma felt herself become tense again and the throbbing pain in her chest returned. "My friend has done some bad things. They've hurt a lot of people. Me included."
"I'm sorry," Archie spoke softly. "You must feel betrayed."
The worst betrayal of all, Emma thought to herself. "I thought they could change. Everyone told me it was a lost cause. I can't believe I'm saying this, but after everything we've been through I still want them to change." She looked up and fixed her gaze on the doctor. "Archie, is it possible for someone consumed by darkness to give it up no matter how tempting the alternative?"
The small man raised his brows at the mention of darkness. He thought for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "Temptation is a powerful weapon; a tool that can be used to hurt or help. It is how one faces temptation that determines if they are good or evil. I suppose to answer your question it would depend upon the extent of pain the person endured in their past."
Emma hated the past. It was not only Regina's past that was at fault, but her own as well. There were very few healthy relationships that Emma could boast of and even fewer moments of love. If she had the experience of loving someone and being loved in return then maybe things with Regina wouldn't have escalated. If the way she felt about Regina were not some novel feeling then maybe she could have anticipated the pain.
That was not the reality of Emma's past, though. What she felt for the mayor was as real as the pain that had been inflicted upon her. The happiness she experienced mixed with the disappointment, making a toxic concoction. She was love-struck and blindsided all at the same time.
Why can't the past just stay where it damn well is? Emma asked herself.
"If this individual is truly your friend, if you care for them… perhaps love them, then you must have faith. Talk to them, let them know you are there. Remind your friend that sh – " Dr. Hopper stopped, reminding himself of his patient's confidentiality. "Remind them that they are not alone."
"Is it really that simple?" the blonde jested.
"Holding on to faith is never easy," Archie shook his head to get the sincerity of his words across. "If what you say is true – that you may have feelings for this person – you owe it not only to your friend, but to yourself to make an attempt. Because if you don't support them or you give up on the possibility that they could recover from this darkness you speak of…" he paused gravely, "that decision will weigh heavily on your conscience."
It was late at night and the mayor was locking up her office.
After the rough morning she experienced she thought it best to keep her mind occupied with work. Marcie complied with her request to hold all calls and visitors and never once intruded upon the mayor. Regina remained alone in her office the rest of the day to stare at meeting minutes and write sloppy briefings. The work did nothing to ease her mind, but then again neither did lying prostrate in bed.
Slipping the key from its lock she turned from the door and saw the silhouette of a lanky figure approaching. She let out a surprised yelp.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."
Regina placed a hand on her heaving chest. She snapped, "Then don't go sneaking around in the dark of a deserted building!"
Emma let out halfhearted laugh that revealed slight uneasiness.
The mayor gripped the door knob at her back while the sheriff loomed. The sound of scuffing boots echoed as Emma dragged herself forward as if something was holding her back.
"Can we talk?"
Regina ignored the question and asked her own. "Where is Henry?"
"He's at home with the sitter. I told her to stay until you got back."
Regina nodded, putting an arm through her purse. She removed herself from the office door and quickly strode past the woman.
Emma backed up and held an arm in front of Regina, stopping her without the slightest contact. "Look at me."
Her eyes beheld the floor for a moment longer before clapping onto Emma's. It took a great deal of effort to erase any sign of emotion from her face. The years of practice made it a bit easier. As soon as their eyes met the mask of bitter annoyance was in place and she was ready to give her performance.
"I need to ask you a question," Emma pressed gently.
"You have been interrogating me quite a bit lately," the mayor sneered. With a tilt of the head she continued, "If this is official business, Sheriff, you can make an appointment with my secretary. However, if this is one of your 'get to know me' schemes then I will have to put an end to what I'm sure would be a cozy conversation." Her lip curled around the spiteful words. She saw Emma back away slightly at the tone. "I've been cross-examined thoroughly enough, thank you."
Emma grabbed her arm to prevent another escape. Regina didn't shrug off the hand, but she would not allow herself to analyze the warm tingling sensation that was transferred by the contact. Instead, she gave the woman a stiff, threatening stare.
"Please, Regina."
The mayor could feel her body go limp, her hard expression slackening and muscles relaxing. How quickly her resolve faded before those soft, pleading eyes Regina never understood. She almost cursed the way the woman was making her feel, how submissive her body was reacting to the plea. Searching the face through grey shadows she looked for an ulterior motive. There was none, of course.
Without a word Regina led them into her office and turned back on the lights. Her keys and purse were dropped onto the desk while Emma made her way across the black and white polished floor. The mayor faced the woman and leaned against her desk. "You were saying?"
Emma's head rose at the question. Stuffing her hands in her back pockets she took a few seconds to gather her thoughts. "Remember when we were in my car that night and you told me about your magic and how different it felt here?" Regina's face didn't show any sign of recognition. Her shoulders shrugged with indifference. "I've been thinking about what you said, especially the way you said it, and I have to know… has it made you happy, having your powers back?"
"Yes," Regina replied defiantly, "it has."
The blonde swallowed over the lump in her throat. "Well I don't agree with you." The mayor narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth in reproach. Emma went on quickly, "Regina, I don't claim to know anything about magic. In all my life I have never believed in it because I've never felt it before. I mean," the shoulders beneath her jacket shrugged, "I never knew what it could have felt like. It could have hit me square in the face and I wouldn't have noticed or even cared. But now that it exists here I have felt it."
The mayor's forehead had begun to wrinkle in contemplation. It was obvious what magic Emma was referring to, though, she couldn't help second guessing the obvious. What kind of magic is she really talking about? Regina asked herself. The hope and opportunity she thought was once gone forever seemed to rise once again.
"I may not understand magic or curses, but I do know people – or at least people like me. I know you, Regina." Emma's eyes sparkled despite the sad expression on her face. "We are similar in a lot of ways. Our pasts constantly haunt us. They turn us into people we don't want to be and what is our solution? We run away, isolate ourselves, push away those who get too close." Taking a step she gestured with a hand to emphasize her point. "I've tried change, it's not easy or painless, but it's possible. I've met people here who were willing to help me. Things have been so much easier with Henry and Mary Margaret in my life. Knowing that they were the only two people in the world who truly cared made me want to be a better person."
"What makes you think there are people who will do the same for me?" Regina inquired.
"Are you really that thick?" scoffed the blonde. "This piece of news might not seem obvious after you've been brushing him off the past couple of days..." Emma licked her lips a moment and went out with it, "you have a son that loves you unconditionally and he's been miserable without your attention." She stared hard at the mayor. "Henry knows that you raised him the best you could and he's grateful to have you for a mother. I know this because I've spent time with him, he's told me."
A choked sob came from Regina as she turned away to hold a hand under her nose. Tears were forming even though she begged them not to. She did not want anyone, much less the woman before her, to see her in such a state. Inhaling sharply, her shaky voice spoke before her brain could catch up. "And who else? Who would dare support someone like me?"
"I would," Emma stated firmly. "You're my friend, Regina, whether you like it or not."
"After what I did to you, how can you say something like that?"
"What happened was an accident. Magic works differently in Storybrooke, you told me so yourself." Emma cocked her head in sadness. "That night I upset you. I didn't believe you when you spoke the truth and I didn't have faith when I should have. What right do I have to place blame when I treated you so horribly?"
"But everything I took from you," pushed the brunette, fingers clinging to the edge of the desk. Eyes, red and brimming, gazed back in humiliation, "I don't deserve to be called your friend."
"We already were friends, don't you see? Let's not destroy what we've worked so hard to build. Our friendship means so much to me and not because we share a son. I don't want to go back to the way we were; that sick, twisted hatred we had for each other." Her blond hair waved back and forth with her shaking head. "We can do better than that. We deserve better."
Regina shut her eyes, not wanting to hear any more. Now that the opportunity had presented itself in true form she felt herself hesitating again. Uncontrollable anxiety caused her chest to constrict, and strained hands to perspire over cool marble. Her thumbs ground into the desk's surface as she took her lip between her teeth. Her heart was racing.
Emma declared, "The more you push me out the more I want to be here."
"You have said that before," the mayor pointed out, gazing at the blonde.
"And I mean every word, but unlike the first time I'm staying for different reasons."
"What reasons are those?"
The mayor was slouched against her desk with arms wrapped protectively around her stomach. Her eyes were puffy from the tears and her lower lip trembled. The sight was just as painful as the bruises coloring Emma's skin. They were both so damaged. So unlucky. So lost. Emma found herself thinking that she would gladly take more bruises if it meant saving this woman. Consequences be damned, Regina's happiness meant something to her.
Despite both their tear streaked faces Emma smirked. "You'll just have to stop pushing me away and find out."
