A/N: Another chapter for your entertainment :)
Regina and Emma lay beneath the stars on a blanket. They decided it would be something they would try to do every night. Or almost every night.
After all, they had so many firsts together under the stars, why not continue the tradition?
Emma dug her heel, which extended off the blanket, into the sand.
"Can I ask you something?" Emma turned her head to look at Regina's. When she did, she realized Regina's face was already tilted toward hers.
"Anything."
"Tell me about your drawings."
Regina took a deep, slow breath, the kind where you suck in as much air as your lungs will hold before gently releasing it.
"Kathryn told you?"
"Yes."
Regina tilted her face back up to the stars, feeling almost a rush of exhilaration at the fact she didn't have to keep secrets anymore. She didn't have to struggle to place why she felt the way she did.
Her life, which had been a field of shards had placed itself back together so perfectly she felt like those shards had transformed into a sheet of glass. Each piece where it was supposed to be Each chip, healed.
"I'll show you."
Regina stood, holding out a hand to help Emma up as well. They walked back to the house, the sandy blanket encased in Emma's arms. Regina led them up the stairs and down the hall to a door that Emma had never entered before.
Before opening it, Regina twisted around, leaning her back against the wood.
"I've never shown anyone these before."
"But Ka-"
"Kathryn stumbled in here by accident. I didn't show her."
Emma looked into Regina's eyes and could see the hesitance and self-doubt swirling in them. She raised her hand to Regina's cheek and stroked it gently, tilting her head to the side in amazement at the beautiful woman before her.
With one shaky breath, Regina twisted the doorknob behind her back. The door crept open as she put her weight on it.
Emma watched as Regina turned around and walked into the room, seemingly too nervous to maintain eye contact while Emma discovered this.
Emma stepped through the doorwary, her eyes jumping from one point to the next, her head craning from side to side. Her lips parted as she continued to walk forward, her hand extending out and grazing the canvas that stood before her.
The room's walls were lined with paintings, sketches, prints, of landscapes, of people, of anything. While Emma recognized many of them as scenes from around town, some of them were of other places Emma had never seen before. Her finger followed the curve of a dune, admiring the how perfectly accurate the colors seemed to be.
Regina rearranged canvases on the other side of the room, "What do you think?" Her voice wavered nervously.
"Regina, these are amazing."
Regina turned to face Emma, her face eyes heart-breakingly hopeful, "Really?"
"Of course really. Are you seeing what I'm seeing? They're like nothing I've ever seen before."
Regina smiled and her eyes gazed into the blonde's. Emma could tell she was trying to decide whether to believe Emma or not.
Here, I'll show you." Emma waved Regina over, a small smirk on her face. Regina walked up next to Emma and the blonde took her hand in her own. She brought Regina's hand to the canvas, guiding Regina's hand in tracing the dune.
"I sat on this dune when I watched you find the rock," Emma moved Regina's finger as it brushed against the rough texture, "See how the painting feels?"
Regina nodded.
"That's exactly how it felt against my legs."
Emma took a step to the left where a shore landscape was drawn out in pencil, "See how you painted the wave like that," Regina's finger under Emma's guidance traced the rolling wave that seemed to explode out of the sea only to dive back under.
"I've sailed over those waves. Waves that look exactly like that. See how it seems to follow a dolphin's path as it jumps out the water? That's how the boat feels when it floats over them. It feels like you might just launch into the sky before dipping back down."
"This right here?" Emma lifted Regina's hand to a painting that used thick layers of oil pants for texture. It was a self portrait of Regina. Emma ran their interlaced fingers over the section of the painting that transitioned into Regina's red lips.
"Well these, these are almost accurate. I know, because I've felt your lips," Emma turned to Regina, twisting so that the fronts of their bodies became flush, "I've felt your lips all over my body and," Emma gently let Regina's hand stay at her side as she lifted her own fingertips to brush along Regina's lips, "I'm sorry, but there's no possible way to make painted lips," Regina looked up into Emma's eyes as their heads leaned in.
Their breathing quickened slightly. When they were just millimeters away Emma finished, "as smooth and soft as yours are." Regina leaned up slightly and connected their lips, allowing their heads to spin as they explored just how smooth, and just how soft the other's lips felt.
When they pulled back Regina's eyes sparkled and a smirk spread across her face, "So you really like them."
"I can feel these paintings, Regina. That's how I know they're amazing." Emma replied a little breathlessly. She allowed her eyes to travel over more of them, craning her neck back to look at the ones hung higher on the wall.
As she bounced from painting to painting she noticed a strange feature in most of them. Right in the corner, sometimes along the side there seemed to be a flash of yellow. Sometimes it was only a few strokes, sometimes it took up a substantial amount.
"What's this?" Emma ran her fingers over one of the paintings with the yellow streak.
Regina moved to where Emma was pointing and allowed the corner of her mouth to curl up. She glanced sideways where Emma's eyebrows were slightly knit, her eyes narrowed in question.
"That's you," Regina whispered as she continued to look at Emma. "Whenever I painted, I would feel this urge to put it in. I would make it through a whole painting, but before I could my brush down I'd have to add a flash of blonde hair."
"But you didn't remember me."
"I can't explain it really. I always kind of figured someone was attached to that wisp of blonde hair, but I didn't want to try and remember something I knew I couldn't. I came to conclude it was probably just a piece of my imagination."
Regina dropped her hand to her side and looked down at her feet, noticing how the dust coated the wooden floor. She hadn't been in here, she realized since Emma had arrived.
"Well, I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere."
Regina looked up at Emma, her eyes skimming along her face, "I know."
Emma walked up to big house, noticing the way her feet were scuffing against the pavement. She pulled her hair into a low ponytail, somehow she felt more professional with her hair tied back. She rapped on the door with purpose, her shoulder squared, her head held high.
"You are not eighteen years old anymore. You are an adult. You can handle yourself," she whispered.
Bracing herself for the door to swing open in true Cora fashion, she was more than surprised when it inched open slowly instead. Emma waited for the large presence that had made her tremble when she was younger, what she saw instead was puzzling.
Cora stood there, leaning against the doorframe looking weak and broken. Her eyes were red, her hair was frizzy, her skin held a grey tint to it.
Before Emma could get out a word, Cora held up a hand, "If you're here to yell and scream and tell me what an awful mother I am…" her eyes looked down to Emma's shoes mindlessly, "save it."
"I'm not."
Cora's head shot up, apparently banking on the thought that was why Emma was here. With no other comebacks or witty one liners prepared she let out a sigh filled with self-hate.
"Then, come in... I suppose," Cora left the door wide open as she disappeared into the house. Emma took a few steps in, looking around at the elaborately decorated and expensive looking interior that hadn't seemed to change a bit since the last time she was here.
She found Cora sitting in her kitchen at the island, hunched over a steaming cup of coffee and a magazine that was spread out.
"So what did you come for, dear?" Cora's tone was menacing, but Emma saw right through it. She glanced to the older woman's hand resting on the countertop. It was shaking.
"I want to help you."
Cora let out a laugh so bitter it induced an ache in Emma's chest.
"You can't help me."
"Okay," Emma shrugged and walked further into the kitchen. She began trifling through the cabinets to Cora's dismay, pulling out a coffee cup when she found one and pouring her own cup of coffee.
"Do you have any sugar?" Emma asked with her back turned. When she received no reply she turned around, eyebrows raised. Cora sat there with her jaw dropped.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" She pushed out, but there was no malice in it. Instead, it was laced with complete and utter confusion.
Emma stared at her, deciding black coffee would have to do for now and taking a sip. She cringed, god that was so bitter, "I told you. I want to help."
Cora gaped for a minute, staring Emma down. Emma just stared back, sipping her coffee nonchalantly.
After awhile Cora huffed and threw up her hands, "While your intentions are still…questionable I will allow myself to believe you. You're wasting your time though, there's nothing you can do to help. Regina will never let me back in her life."
Emma nodded in thought, looking down into her coffee in contemplation.
"I have something I need to show you," she said after awhile. She placed her coffee cup on the table and nodded to herself once more, deciding that it was the right time. She turned to walk out of the kitchen.
Cora found herself in an unusual situation. She felt herself wanting Emma's approval. She felt the need to convince Emma she was worth saving. She ran her hands through her hair as her stomach swirled with acid. When did she get so weak?
Emma returned with something held behind her back.
"You couldn't have brought that in when you came to my door?"
Emma's lips curled up slightly, "I didn't know if you were going to let me in."
Cora allowed herself to return the smile reluctantly, knowing how accurate the blonde's thinking was.
"Well, now you're here. Enough with the theatrics, let's see what you have for me." Cora pushed the magazine and half empty coffee mug aside, clearing countertop space for what Emma was about to show her. The blonde pulled it around from her back and placed it gently on the granite surface.
Cora peered at it, her eyes watering immediately.
Laying before her on the island was a watercolor painting of Cora and baby Henry. At the bottom, Regina had painted her own arm reaching out to touch him hand. It seemed as though the painting was a direct view through Regina's eyes. Cora ran her fingers over the painting, leaning back when she realized that her tears were close to falling.
She traced along her painted face, noticing how Regina had painted it so softly. She was holding up Henry, his small body leaning against her chest as he smiled up at her. Her neck was craned to look at his and you could tell from the picture there was a sense of absolute comfort between grandmother and child.
"Where did you find this?"
"I may have borrowed it from Regina's art room. I shouldn't have, but I didn't know another way to show you she cares."
Cora looked back down to the painting, her smile soft as she tilted her head.
"I didn't even know she could paint."
"She started after the accident."
"Thank you," Cora looked up from the painting and wiped her tears away delicately with her finger.
Emma allowed the corner of her lip to curl up and she nodded.
"I-I have something also." Cora stuttered out, now incredibly flustered at how emotional she was. She needed space. She needed a moment to breathe.
In a flash, she walked purposively out of the kitchen and upstairs. Emma felt her entire body relax, she had been trying to hard to keep her confidence, to keep control in case Cora decided to lash out and resort to a screaming fight, but the woman seemed to have been completely broken when she got here. It seemed her only job was to put the pieces back together.
Minutes later, Emma heard the footsteps of the older woman coming down the stairs, she turned the corner and walked down the hall casually. In her hands she held a book.
"This was Regina's. It was her diary. She wrote in it almost every day. You should give it to her," Cora held it out to Emma. Emma took it in her hands for second before looking up at the Regina's mother. Her eyes were still red and puffy from crying. Emma held the book back out.
"No, you should give it to her."
"She-she doesn't want to see me. She'll shut me out. I've ruined too much."
Emma looked into her brown eyes, challenging them with her own emerald ones.
In a calm, even tone Emma began, "I'm going to go back now. We're going to the beach for the day. At five p.m. I'll make sure we're home. Come give this to her then, okay?"
Emma dumped the remnants of her coffee cup down the drain and walked out of the house without saying another word. Just as she was about to leave Cora's voice rung out, "How can you be so sure?"
Emma turned around to see Cora frozen in the hallway, the older womans' eyes flickering around nervously at the comprising position of vulnerability she'd just put herself in.
"Because she told m she only paints things that bring her life, things that make her feel. And that painting I showed you. The one with you and Henry. There are about twenty of those hung up around the room. Each better than the last." Emma ended with a tight lipped smile that Cora slowly returned.
Seconds later, Emma turned and jogged down the porch steps back to her car.
Cora returned to the island where she realized Emma had left the painting. She picked it up and looked at it again, never getting enough of the beautiful scene painted by her daughter. She flipped it over to see if it was dated. It was. On the back of the canvas, below the date Regina had written:
Mom and Henry – perfect day at the beach.
Cora ran her fingers over the writing as she had done to the painting, seemingly needing the touch to believe it was true.
She smiled to herself, allowing her lips to stretch back enough to reveal her teeth.
She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the coffee mug and her heart lurched. She had to shower, put on makeup, change her clothes, maybe go pick up some groceries, do her hair, gather Henry's toys...
She was going to see her daughter.