Snow's words echo in Regina's ears. She's sorry. So very sorry. Regina goes over it in her head again and again. Snow had killed Cora. She had been trying to protect her family. It's something that Regina can almost understand. Because she would do anything for her child, and if a powerful witch were a threat to Henry, then Regina would do anything to protect him.
Regina is trying to forgive. Lying in bed with Emma curled up against her, Regina is trying so hard to forgive. To forgive the little girl who had wanted a mother so badly that she had clung to a teenager, only a few years older than herself. Snow had stolen Regina's freedom and the man she loved.
Snow had apologized today, and still Regina wants to claw her eyes out. This little girl who took everything from her. But then the image of Cora crushing Daniel's heart invades Regina's mind. Snow was the one who told the secret, but she was just a stupid, ignorant brat.
Regina's chest burns with the weight of tears and decades of pain. She gets out of bed, as careful as possible not to disturb Emma. She grabs a robe, wraps it around herself tightly, hugging the material to her as if it could block out the cold and the memories and the gnawing realization of the truth of all those years ago.
Regina can't escape the image of her mother crushing Daniel's heart, the image of her mother beating her, the image of her mother accepting Leopold's proposal. The memories crash in on her. She feels Cora's magical strikes to her already bleeding back. She feels Leopold's weight on top of her, feels herself trapped beneath the king that Cora had sold her to. She wants to scream at the top of her lungs, wants to hit something, wants to hurt someone so badly. There's too much inside her, eating away at her, and she feels certain that it will never leave her in peace.
She stumbles down the stairs, letting out a guttural noise somewhere between a scream and a moan once she is far enough away from where Emma or Henry can hear. The rage is boiling inside Regina, familiar and hot and aching to be released.
She catches her reflection in one of her favorite mirrors. She watches her lips quiver as she does her best not to cry. Like this, she looks like a child. Like the child she was before she had been ruined, before she had ruined herself. Had that child been good? That little girl who loved to play outside and ride horses, who was kind to all the servants, and who sang because her father told her she had the voice of an angel.
"Mirror mirror on the wall," her mother had sing-songed as she brushed Regina's long hair. "Who's the fairest of them all?" The chant still echoes in Regina's mind. It still remains a reminder of all that her mother had demanded.
Her mother had insisted on beauty. When Regina would ruin her dresses with mud or her perfect hairstyle by playing with the ringlets, Cora would drag her daughter to the mirror. "You'll never be the fairest in all the land. You look like a filthy peasant." And then the pain. The pain as Cora enchanted the mirror and shards of it sliced against Regina's skin. Never a mark. Just the pain. And the reminder that she was never good enough.
Regina picks up the nearest thing to her hand – a vase – and hurls it at the mirror. Both shatter and Regina watches the shards crash to the floor. She picks up a candlestick, and with impeccable aim shatters the room's other mirror.
Regina stands amid a sea of shattered glass, shards of her reflection staring back at her. She has been so hurt, so very, very hurt. She sinks to her knees. "How could you, mother?" she whispers. "How could you do this?"
There had been good in Regina; she is believing it more and more. Because Emma and Henry look at her with love. And they wouldn't do that if she didn't have some good inside her. Somewhere, hidden away and trembling, there must be something left of that kind, gentle girl.
But if she's good, oh god if she is good, then her mother must be the monster. Because that cruelty is not something that Regina could ever fathom inflicting on Henry. But she had always told herself that it was different with her mother, because Regina herself was different. No one had ever loved her. Certainly it was because she wasn't good enough to be loved.
But she is loved now – Emma and Henry love her so much. And that means that the only option is that her mother had hurt her, had abused her – the word feels strange in her mind, just as it had when Archie had suggested it in his office months ago. She had railed against it then and stormed out of the office. But now she lets herself sit with the thought. Her mother had abused her. It hadn't been Regina's fault.
Regina hears the footsteps, and she doesn't know how she will explain this away. Surely it's too late to clean up the shards with magic and pretend that nothing happened. Emma is already in the room.
"Regina," Emma whispers in horror, surveying the damage.
Regina is embarrassed that her lover in seeing her like this, and she does her best to muster up the strength to push Emma away effectively. "Go back to bed," she says, her voice icy.
"Christ Regina. Are you kidding?" Emma walks across the minefield of glass shards, and crouches down next to her lover.
Regina seems to lack the strength to stand, but she turns her head away from Emma as tears stream down her face.
"What happened?" Emma asks, feeling frantic at Regina's distress.
Regina sobs. Her hands claw at the carpet. "I hate her," Regina grits out through clenched teeth.
"My mother?" Emma asks, wondering sadly if they could ever be anything like a normal family.
Regina shakes her head mournfully. "Mine."
About damn time, Emma thinks. She bites her tongue.
Emma wraps her arm around Regina's waist. There is no way for Regina to conceive of deserving this comfort, this love, and still deserving what her mother did to her. It makes her feel like her head will split in two.
Regina breathes, calms herself, and once she knows that she has enough control, she magics the room clean once more. The mirrors piece themselves back together. The vase mends.
Emma watches as Regina stands and begins to walk away. Emma wrestles with herself for a minute. Regina has always been good at respecting Emma's privacy, at not pushing her to talk. But something tells Emma that letting Regina pretend that this little break down didn't happen would be the wrong thing to do.
"Gina." Regina turns around and smiles at the nickname that Emma has never used before.
"Yes, Em."
They look at each other with smiles. Regina can see the care in Emma's eyes, the trust, the love. She walks forward and takes Emma's hands. Regina is overcome with love. It's enough to make her believe that she can do this, be in this relationship, make it work.
Regina leads them back to the bedroom – their bedroom it feels more and more like all the time. Regina crawls under the covers, and Emma wraps Regina up in her arms, surprised by how easy it is. She expected a fight, but what she got instead was Regina seeking comfort. Maybe they are making progress.
"I still miss my mother so much," Regina admits once her face is buried tightly in Emma's neck. "I love her, but she never really loved me. If she had, she wouldn't have hurt me or killed Daniel or made me marry the King." She says it like a little girl trying to sort it all out. Trying to understand the incomprehensible: the fact that her mother didn't show her love. Believing for the first time that her mother's version of love was not love after all.
"You have every reason to hate her," Emma promises. "What she did to you," Emma says with a sigh, pushing Regina's hair behind her ear and placing a kiss to Regina's temple. "I'm so sorry. You deserve to be loved." Regina sobs and Emma understands that she's hit on exactly what her lover needs to hear. Emma understands what it feels like to spend your life believing that you were unlovable.
There's a knock on the door then, and Emma curses under her breath. Regina was actually letting Emma hold her. They were finally making some progress in talking about Cora.
"Mom?" Henry whispers from outside the door.
Regina stands and goes to him, wiping furiously at her cheeks as she walks. She opens the door to find a very nervous looking kid. "Henry, what's wrong?"
"I heard you screaming, and I heard things break. I…uh…I just wanted to make sure that you're ok."
Regina wraps her arms around Henry, glad that he no longer pulls away from her embrace. "I'm fine, sweetie," she promises, pulling back to offer Henry a reassuring smile. He doesn't look entirely convinced. "Do you want us to tuck you in?"
Emma catches the word with shock: us. Regina wants them to tuck Henry in together. She really wants this to work. She wants them to be his parents together. Emma scrambles out of bed, nearly tripping over her feet in her haste to join Henry and Regina.
"Yeah, thanks," Henry says leading the way back to his room. When he sits back on his bed, he asks, "Do you think you could lie down with me until I fall asleep?"
"Of course," Regina replies, slipping into bed next to Henry and wrapping her arm around his shoulders. She looks up at Emma waiting for her to join them. The blonde sits down next to Henry, and as Regina sings him to sleep, Emma can't help but wonder why she had failed to see what a good mother Regina truly was.
Henry is sleeping in a few minutes and Emma is beginning to doze off to the soothing sound of Regina's voice. Regina reaches her hand across Henry and joins it with Emma's making the sheriff smile. This is the first time that Emma has actually been in an adult relationship, and she can hardly believe that Regina is open to her like this so soon after what had happened downstairs. "Let's go back to bed," Regina whispers with a squeeze of Emma's hand.
Regina pulls the blanket over her legs, smoothing it with her nervous hands over and over before talking. "I tried to give Henry everything I never had as a child. I wanted him to feel loved every minute, no matter what he did."
"You're a great mother, Regina." Regina scoffs at that. "I'm serious. Henry and I were looking at your photo albums earlier. You both looked so happy." Emma brushes some hair back from Regina's face so she can see her eyes. "I don't know how you did it. You had no role model for being a good mother, but you were anyway. There are so many things that I love about you, but this Regina," Emma smiles as a tear falls down her cheek. "You gave him what I couldn't. I'm still learning how to be a mother, but you just knew, huh?"
Regina laughs. "I was a nervous wreck. You should have seen me the first few days I had him. Every time he cried I was so afraid that something was wrong. I slept in a rocking chair in his room every night for nearly a week. I couldn't put him down."
Emma leans over to kiss Regina. It hurts to think about the days when Henry was small, days when Emma had sat in a jail cell, mourning the emptiness in her uterus, the complete loneliness that once more consumed her existence. But she had wanted her child to have what she never did. And he had it. Not a parent who would give him up when she found something better, but a mother who would fight tooth and nail for him, who would protect him and love him.
Emma puts everything into that kiss. All her love and gratefulness and awe. She keeps her forehead rested against Regina's as their lips pull apart. "You deserved to have a mother who cared for you like that." Emma presses a soft peck to Regina's lips.
"It's hard to believe sometimes, you know?"
"Trust me I do."
"Oh Emma," Regina says, stroking Emma's cheek lovingly. "I love you so much." She stares at the wall in front of her again, avoids Emma's eyes. "I've done such terrible things."
"There's no changing the past," Emma reminds Regina.
"You're right," Regina says, a look of clarity and peace overcoming her. "I'm going to try to be better, Emma. For you and Henry and me. I promise."
"You already are."
"It terrifies me. The thought of being Regina again. Not the Evil Queen; just Regina."
"If it helps, I'm scared shitless too. Not of Regina," Emma clarifies. "But you know, of being in a relationship. It's been a long time."
Regina chuckles. "I suppose we can be afraid together then."
"Yeah," Emma agrees, feeling oddly comforted as she lays her head on Regina's shoulder. "Together."