A/N: Here's TLK from Regina's POV, as well as its consequences. This is the beginning of the end, I'm afraid... Only five more chapters to go. As always, a humongous thank you for the overwhelming feedback and I will see you soon!

CHAPTER 21 – Regina – Kissed

When I finally woke up from that tormented sleep, it was to an empty bed. The sheets on Emma's side were still warm, so she clearly hadn't been gone for long. Nonetheless, I was overtook by a sense of inadequacy and rejection. I tried to suppress those emotions, knowing all-too-well how irrational they were: she cared a lot about me, that much was certain. Not being around me every single hour of the day wasn't supposed to disquiet me… still, it did.

Therefore, I made my way down the stairs and into the kitchen, where I knew Emma was preparing coffee – the potent, inebriating scent suggesting as much. She was already smiling at me when I entered, telltale sign that she was trying to hide her real feelings. I could tell she wasn't emotionally stable; ever since I had woken up from the sedation she had been on the verge of a breakdown. However, I wasn't going to force her into opening up to me: if she wanted my help, she would ask for it. She was free to tell me anything she needed to get off her chest, but in no way was I going to pry for her to do so.

Of course, that didn't mean I wouldn't push, just enough to remind her that I cared about her.

So, "What's wrong?" I asked. Even I could feel the concern in my voice.

She hadn't slept. Aside from her particularly rough voice and the bags under her eyes, I remembered waking up every-so-often during the night, sensing her discomfort. She would kiss me until I fell back into slumber, but that didn't change the fact that I knew she was not fine. She confirmed my suspicions, a, "I couldn't sleep," that sounded a lot like an excuse – or, maybe, just part of the truth: as if not being able to sleep was only one of the things that 'were wrong'. Surely, witnessing an attempted murder must've been hard… And yet, I didn't think that was the problem.

Not to mention that sleeping had been quite an essential component of that relationship of ours. It helped us bond, it helped me open up to Emma. Somehow, knowing that she didn't manage to rest felt as if a part of that bond had gone missing.

She offered me some coffee, and I absent-mindedly accepted, way too lost in my own worries to even care about something that trivial.

"How come you weren't able to sleep?" I inquired then.

"I had a lot of things on my mind," was her reply, confirming my hypothesis: she was, in fact, not fine. Something was bothering her, and there was only so much I could do to help. She approached me, hesitantly raising an arm; but, seeing the disarmingly tormented shadow that covered her eyes, I couldn't stop myself from helping her the only way I could.

Before she could even think about rejecting my touch – a reaction that had become increasingly more of a habit, during the past handful of hours – I threw my arms around her and held her tight, my grip both secure and comforting. I wanted her to understand the concept that I kept repeating and that she didn't seem to properly catch on: I was there. I wasn't planning on going away, regardless of what could possibly happen to us.

Emma's stiff posture relaxed almost immediately. She let out an imperceptible sigh, maybe without even noticing, and melted into the embrace. She rested her chin on my shoulder and wrapped her arms around my waist, tight yet gentle. I felt my dressing gown shift as she grabbed fistfuls of it behind me and held on as if her life depended on it.

After a brief pause she talked.

She went on and on listing the times when, during the past years, we had saved each other.

It might have not seemed like much. In all honesty, it really wasn't. It was nothing but a sequence of facts that I had partaken in, yet didn't recall. Nothing special to me, nor to anyone else… but to her, they were. 'Fundamental' didn't even begin to describe just how deeply connected she was to them. And the more she talked, the more I understood: those were the few moments she had held on to, during my absence, to remind herself that I had, at some point, cared about her just as much as she cared about me. They were the reasons why she hadn't given up on me, yet: she wanted to save me for one last time… because saving me was the only way I'd be able to save her.

And her words, her eyes, even the small slices of skin that were pressed against me and had our magics prickling in a way that was more intense, deeper than usual – they triggered something inside me.

"I need you to remember me," she said. As the words left her mouth, I felt the tingle on my skin shift in intensity. It was almost as if my body had assimilated it, and now it was flowing inside of me: every inch of my being was filled with the sensation, not dissimilar to a very soft electrocution.

Only a small percentage of my attention was focused on what was happening around me. In a heartbeat, a myriad of images flowed in front of me, abstract but thoroughly clear.

There was Emma, fierce and reckless, holding a chainsaw; Emma using magic with me on a diamond-shaped trigger; Emma and I creating a lunar eclipse as if it was the easiest thing in the world; Emma with almost-white hair and red lips; Emma talking, Emma laughing, Emma kissing somebody, Emma crying. It felt almost like a stop-motion movie, with the sequence of a million pictures appearing in my mind ever-so-rapidly, and yet I didn't miss a single one of them.

Emma broke our hug to look at me in the eyes, although I wasn't seeing her properly; her face was overlapped by memories – my memories about her – that didn't seem to stop.

"Please, Regina. For one last time, please, save me."

I finally managed to focus on her. The images were still there, one after the other, but they had become nothing more than a colorful slide-show in the background.

I remembered her.

Emma. Hasty, sad, infuriating, loyal Emma, with her determination and recklessness and that big heart of hers that made her eyes shine brighter than a million stars.

I remembered her and I remembered me, hating her and loving her more and more every day, unintentionally and unconsciously. The hurt, the anger, the fear: all fueled by the strongest, most radical feeling I could ever envisage. It was frightening and powerful, bending me to its will.

And as I lost myself into the green pools of her soul, I kissed her, because I was in love with Emma Swan and, knowingly or not, I had always been.

A thrust of magic spread over me. That's when the memories of Emma went away and were replaced by everything else.

Especially that night, on August 26th, when I had made myself forget… and the reason why I didn't want to be woken up.

I looked at Emma's face and the deepest, most overwhelming need to get as far away from her as possible took over me.

This wasn't supposed to happen. This was not how I was supposed to wake up… Not even remotely!

Not Emma. No.

No, no, no, no…

"No…"

I needed to stay away from her. I summoned my magic to teleport to my vault, abandoning her again after promising I wouldn't. Despite how cliché of a reason it was, I was doing it for her own good.

After the cloud of purple mist had cleared from my surroundings, I opened my eyes, only to find myself on top of the mausoleum, rather than inside of it. Thankfully, the second time around I managed to move from the roof and into the vault; I reasoned that not using magic for almost three months must have undermined my abilities.

Regardless, I cast several protection spells around the area, making sure that absolutely no one would manage to get to me.

Once I had entered the secret basement through my father's pretend tomb, I sat on a chair and cradled my head in my hands. There were four things I needed to do, at the moment: find Gold; talk to the idiots; hug my son and… well, disappear. To my luck, I didn't have the time to cradle in my misery, at the moment; that was something I would only be able to do once I was back in New York – and this time I had all of my memories to make sure the pain wouldn't fade away any time soon.

Sensing a rush of anxiety spread through me, I stood up from my spot and started pacing. My nervousness wasn't due to what I was about to do; rather, how Emma was feeling. I knew her well enough to know my departure had, most likely, broken her heart. It took me a great amount of will power not to approach one of the many mirrors in the room and check in on her, and even more not to simply go back to her and pretend everything was fine.

I steeled myself for that little chat with Rumple, making sure that was my only concern, for the time being. Realizing I was still in my sleepwear, I changed into something more professional – and, consequently, more intimidating – and tried not to think too much about the unintentional white and gold hue my new clothes were sporting, although I intended to wear a darker shade. Damned awry magic!

I teleported directly in front of the pawnshop and let my pain fuel my anger.

I didn't think twice before bursting through the front door and inside the pawnbroker's. As I had imagined, Gold wasn't occupying his typical position behind the counter: the imp must have felt the wave of energy True Love's kiss had caused and deduced I had regained my memories. I unceremoniously made my way into the backroom, also predictably empty. The fact that the front door had been unlocked and the lingering static electricity in the air suggested that he hadn't been gone for long.

I checked his apartment, the library, even Granny's, but each of my stops turned out to be a dead end. There was one last place I was planning on going to and, paradoxically, I hoped I wouldn't find him there.

Despite having walked to my previous locations, I decided to materialize directly at the mansion: I didn't want to risk being seen by Emma… Hell, I didn't want to risk seeing her. I knew I would fall apart, if I saw her… I wouldn't be able to leave her, had I seen how distraught she was. To make sure I wouldn't run into her, I appeared inside my study and made as little noise as possible when I opened the door. I silently and carefully walked through the house, and when I reached the lounge I found the object of my research sitting comfortably on my couch, acting as if he owned the place.

His behavior only added to my ire. How dare he?!

The clicking of my heels announced my presence, although he had been clearly waiting for me. Staring straight ahead, he didn't flinch when I entered his field of vision, and the seething anger I was irradiating didn't seem to worry him in the slightest.

"You spineless son of a bitch!" I yelled finally, raising an arm and willing a thrust of magic to send him flying across the room. Somewhere between my blind rage, a tiny slice of my mind managed to register how he didn't stop me, although he most definitely had the power to. "You can subdue Snow as much as you want, but if you dare touch Miss Swan again, I swear, I will end you!"

"Oh, now, now, Your Majesty," he finally reacted, struggling to stand upright, "we both know very well that that is not going to happen. Although I have to admit your reaction baffles me a tad… I had thought you'd be thanking me, by now."

His unctuous smirk made my rage churn inside me.

I knew indulging him wasn't a good idea; I had known Rumplestiltskin for a very, very long time, and I knew how able he was at tricking people with his words. Nonetheless, "Why would I ever do that?" I asked.

"Well, had I not tried to kill Miss Swan, you wouldn't have protected her and she wouldn't have admitted to being in love with you. Your curse broke thanks to me, dearie."

"And that is precisely what I didn't want to happen!"

"And why is that?"

"That is none of your business, Rumple. So, I'm telling you this: you think you've seen me angry, but the Evil Queen was nothing compared to what I'll become if you even so much as look at Emma. You hurt her, and I will find you and pulverize everything you hold dear. Have I made myself clear?"

He looked me in the eye for a second, studying me with that insufferable smirk of his still in place. "Crystal." He headed towards the front door. Stopping before walking out, he added, "Have a nice trip to New York, Your Majesty."

He was gone before I could ask him for an explanation. How did he know…?

I shook my head to stop thinking about it. I didn't have time to muse on the Dark One's ways.

What happened next almost felt like a ten minutes-long déjà-vu. I looked around my house, silently bidding farewell to my surroundings, to that house that had been my home for the past three decades. I hoped Henry would forgive me, I hoped he'd understand just how important it was, that I stayed away from him. I wondered where Emma was and what she was doing, how much I had hurt her. Even I was feeling as if my heart and my mind could fall apart at any moment… And I had thought that leaving her last time had been hard…

Unashamed of the tears that were rolling freely down my face, I stepped into the kitchen, grabbed a pen and a piece of paper and, just like that dreadful night on August 26th, precisely eighty-one days ago, I scribbled the very same few sentences I had written before, the only difference now being the transparent stain my teardrop had left on the corner of the page.

Light footsteps announced Emma was climbing down the stairs. I couldn't let her know I was there, but I wanted – I needed – to see her one last time. So, when I heard her approach the kitchen, I hid behind the door that led to the basement and left it slightly ajar – just enough for me to be able to watch her without being noticed. Her hair was damp and she had changed into her everyday clothes; I realized a shower would explain why she hadn't heard Gold and I talk.

I couldn't help but think just how beautiful she was as she looked at the kitchen island, her expression stoic even when there was no one around her.

She sighed as she grabbed the piece of paper, gently ran her fingers on the wet corner and pulled her wallet out of the pocket of her jeans. I was stunned when I saw her extract the note I had left for her the first time and flick her wrist: a jolt of magic attached the two pieces of paper together, back to back, and she proceeded to place them both back in her wallet.

Her resignation made my heart ache just that little bit more.

I teleported to the Charmings' before Emma could notice I was at the mansion. At least, I wanted to teleport there; I actually found myself at the end of the street, and had to walk to the loft. According to the clock tower, it was just past eleven, which meant Henry was still at school; I supposed it was a good thing, as I preferred to have a more private conversation with him.

It was David who opened the door when I knocked, baby Neal asleep in his arms. His stunned expression turned into a more confused one when he noticed Emma wasn't with me. I didn't wait for an invitation and stepped past him, inside the apartment, where Snow was laying on the couch and staring aimlessly into the void. Somewhat luckily, recent events had her staying home from work, and I could talk to both Charmings.

"Regina? What's wrong?" David asked, finally shaking off his initial hesitation. "Is Emma okay?"

At his words, Snow's eyes moved and focused on me. She sat up as she realized I was there, and she had just opened her mouth to talk when I spoke up.

"No, she's not." Maybe it was the rawness in my voice, or maybe my behavior, that made them understand.

"You're back?" they asked simultaneously, their expressions a combination of stupor and incredulity.

I curtly nodded. "Yes, indeed I am. Although that's not why I'm here…"

"How? How did you manage to break the curse? Does Emma know? Does Henry know? Was it him?" Snow's bombardment of questions had me frustrated; I definitely hadn't missed that aspect of her personality.

"Emma woke me," I replied shortly. I couldn't look at either of them in the eye when I added quietly, after a pause, "True Love's kiss."

The room was silent for a moment. I didn't want to see the fear and disappointment on their faces, so I kept staring at my hands until David finally spoke up.

"Took you long enough," he said, and my head snapped up. I was surprised to see the warm – although vaguely teasing – smile on his lips, a mirror to Snow's own one.

A part of me wanted to know just how they knew about Emma and I's feelings; but I knew that now was not the time for that conversation.

"Yes, well, I'm afraid nothing more will happen. I'm going back to New York." Again, the two of them started shooting question after question, straining my tolerance even further. I had to raise my voice to make them listen to me. "The reason behind my decision is personal. Just know that I have at heart Emma and Henry's – and, yes, even your – best interests. I wouldn't leave if I didn't know it was the only way I would keep all of you safe. Perhaps… perhaps one day I will explain everything. For now, I'm only asking you to trust me, hard as it can be. Help Emma move on, help Henry forgive me. But, please, don't – under any circumstances – let them come after me. Make them hate me, if you must, as long as they're safe."

"Regina… Emma will never get over this. She's filled to the brim with abandonment issues, you can't just leave her and hope she can move on as if nothing ever happened between you two!" Snow exclaimed.

"And that should be enough proof for you to understand how serious this situation is, and how essential it is that I leave. I love her, Snow… more than my own life. I wouldn't leave her if I didn't deem it absolutely necessary." I paused for a second to let my words sink in, before continuing. "Now, I need to find my son and explain him what happened, too. And I'm going to ask him, as well as you, one last favor: don't let Emma know why I left or where I'm going. She would be in even more danger than she is now, and I can't let that happen. If you care about her as much as I do, keep her here. Keep her safe. Please."

I waited for them to nod, before turning around. I knew I was on the verge of tears, and I couldn't let them see. I felt David squeeze my shoulder and, without looking back, I let purple fog engulf me.

As expected, my magic faltered again. I had appeared directly into one of the classrooms, scaring the life out of some teenagers and causing their teacher to faint.

I didn't waste time apologizing, before I stormed out of the room and walked through the hallways, my heels clicking imposingly, until I finally found the room where I knew Henry's Creative Writing class was.

I urgently knocked on the door and waited. The teacher asked me to wait outside while he announced, "Mr. Mills? Your mother is here to see you," and I supposed Henry wasn't expecting this mother to have shown up, judging by his reaction.

Not unlike his grandparents, he was baffled at the unexpected visit and, especially, at the intense look on my face. "Uhm, hi…?"

Dear, had I missed him. "Henry," I said, my eyes already watering.

He didn't need to hear anything more. Understanding washed over him and he lunged at me, squeezing me in his arms as if he never wanted to let me go. My heart broke.

"Mom," he whispered as I held him back, stroking his hair and inhaling his scent as I heard his sobs against my shoulder. Once he had finally calmed down, he broke the hug and looked at me, the brightest of grins on his face. "Ma broke the curse, didn't she?"

I couldn't help the bittersweet smile that his enthusiasm caused. "Yes, she did. She saved me."

"True Love's kiss?"

I simply nodded.

"What's wrong, then?" he asked, noticing my expression. I only distractedly registered his complete lack of surprise at the knowledge that Emma and I were in love.

"I had to break her heart," I murmured back, "and now I have to break yours, too.

"I have to leave, sweetheart, for the same reason I left three months ago… Although now, not having enough time to produce another memory curse on myself, I'll remember everything. I won't be back any time soon… I don't even know if I will be back at all. But I want you, I need you to know that I love you, and I always will. I didn't say goodbye last time, but I want to say it now. I love you with every fiber of my being, Henry. You and Emma are the most important people in my life, and that is precisely why I have to go. I made a mistake, years and years ago, and now someone is looking for me. I don't want to put you or Emma into any type of danger. It would kill me.

"So promise me, Henry, that you will stay here and you won't look for me. Promise me that you'll stay with your mother and you won't let her do anything stupid. Can you do that for me?"

A teary nod was all I received. I closed my eyes as I kissed his forehead, and before I could change my mind, I teleported again, my last sentence lingering in the hallway as my magic enveloped me.

"Farewell, my little prince."

That was it. A couple more meters and I would leave behind everything I held dear.

Oddly enough, my first thought as I arrived at the town line was how bluntly underwhelming the moment was. There was no sad music filling the air; no rain to add to the drama of the moment… no one there to say goodbye to. Only my Mercedes and I, the suitcase magically filled with my clothes securely loaded in the trunk, my foot on the gas pedal; a bit of pressure and there would be no turning back.

I was glad that this time I managed to say my goodbyes. I had even stopped by Zelena's before coming here. In August, I had cast the curse on myself without informing anyone in advance, and when I had stepped over that tracing of red paint, it was with absolutely no memories of my past. No memories and, well, no regrets, either.

This time I did remember, and it hurt more than anything I had ever experienced before. Not even losing Daniel had caused me as much grief, because now I had a family, and I didn't get to enjoy it for a second. I didn't get to see Robyn and Neal grow up; I didn't get to bake an apple turnover for Christmas with the Charmings; I didn't get to see my son have a child of his own; I didn't get to tell Emma that I loved her.

This time around, my memories were all I would ever have. I would move forward by inertia, always stuck in the past and wondering what would have happened, had I stayed. It wasn't ideal, of course… but if it ensured the safety of the people I loved, then I wasn't going to have any regrets.

I chanced one last glance at the town – my town, the one I created and cursed and ruled – before finally putting the car in drive and leaving, my home nothing but a fading picture framed by my rearview mirror.