Don't Cry

The Charmings left the room to let Regina have a chance to recover. Hah. Recover. Regina shrugged to herself. How do you recover from failing to die? How do you recover from despair and torture? They probably expect me to be up and functioning by lunch, Regina mocked them within her own head.

She got up. Found her clothes spread out by the bed. Looked in a mirror. Darn. Always messing up the make-up. Stupid amateur villains. They don't appreciate sense of style in this realm. She adjusted her hair, and tried finding some decent make-up. What even is this kind of peachy colour, she thought to herself as she rejected Snow's subtle collection of lipsticks.

Her body hurt. Everything hurt. As she walked around in the unfamiliar apartment, her head kept buzzing. Random shots of pain shot through her head in the aftershock of the previous treatment.

She sat down on the middle of the floor. Curled herself into a ball. Begged it to stop.

Emma walked around aimlessly with her parents. What were they even doing? She didn't know. Something about a trigger and some sick mess. Neal was dead. Probably. Most likely. She didn't know. She would have to tell Henry. Figure out what to say. There were no words. "I can't do this yet", she whispered to her mother which nodded.

"We'll walk a bit first. Get some air. You can do it", Snow assured her.

David gently rubbed Emma's shoulder, and moved away to give the ladies some space. Let them mourn a bit and then get to the point. A trigger. The end of Storybrooke. Certain death for everyone. But first sorrow.

The women walked towards the shore. Looked out towards the endless blue water, gently swaying with the wind. So big. So endless. So massive in opposition to their own puny existence. We are nothing, Emma thought to herself. Nothings walking around pretending to be everything. And then something as silly as a gun takes us away. Everyone always leaves.

She remembered the first time someone left her. She had waited and waited for hours, hoping for their return. But the return never came. She remembered the despair, the jump of hope every time a noise sounded or footsteps sounded nearby. How she expected the faces that never appeared. She learned something back then. Don't let them get too close. They will leave you. Everyone leaves you.

The fact that her parents were now standing here with her was absurd. Someone claiming to care. Just as absurd as the kid that searched the world to find her. Henry. A miracle, a bundle of sunshine in her life. A dreamer. And now she had to tell him the father he hardly knew was gone. Forever. And he would have to learn like she once did. They will all leave you in the end. You only have yourself.

Regina's brain was attacking her from the inside, burning, screaming. The voice of the useless villain rang in her head, taunting her. His face smiled at her. Her despair screamed out within her head. Kill me. She tried to lie perfectly still on the floor, to relax. Just keep breathing.

Slowly, the pain subsided. In its place, a throbbing warmth pulsated through her veins. She could hear her elevated heartbeat. She could feel it. She decided not to get up yet. Tiny specks of light appeared in the edges of her vision even though her eyes were closed. The light didn't care.

Regina remained on the floor. Tried to hide from the light. Clutched some clothing, unsure what it was. Dragged it over her head. She felt nauseous.

Emma looked into her parents' eyes. How similar to her own they were. Full of loss. Loss of a child they would never again meet, as an adult took her place. They would never see her take her first steps. First day at school. First love. Just like she and Neal never saw the same for Henry. And now Neal wouldn't see anything at all. Emma's eyes shone glossy with tears, but she wouldn't let them fall.

"I'm so sorry", she whispered. "I'm so sorry about everything".

Snow's eyes reflected the sadness, and she tried forcing a smile. She failed, and ended up with a weird grimace.

"You have nothing to be sorry about, Emma", Snow replied. Her voice was breaking. "Nothing at all."

She embraced her daughter in a hug, and for the first time since Emma could remember, she let herself cry. In her mother's arms, she could finally fall apart. Let it go. If only for a moment.

Somewhere off in the distance, David was awkwardly walking in circles trying not to mess up the moment.

Hours later, or was it minutes? Regina tried to get up. Her previous effort to try to appear decent looking was again messed up, but she couldn't quite care. She felt numb. She stumbled towards the bathroom and threw up.

As she tried to keep the tiny shred of dignity she still obtained by cleaning up the mess of herself, she concluded torture was not a good way to treat her body. In fact, she concluded it should be avoided in the future if it resulted in this kind of headaches. She hadn't suffered migraine attacks like this in years, and honestly didn't care to relive the experience.

Apparently sending shocks of electricity through your brain might in fact make you sick. She'd put that on her memos for next time. If they'd done it decently though, this wouldn't have been a problem. Fucking useless newbies. She threw up again.

"Fuck you", she muttered to the toilet as she flushed it all, "Fuck you all". Why was it so hard to die?

Emma felt lighter after letting go, and now had only one thought in her mind. Henry.

The three members of the Charming family walked towards the almost empty playground. For a minute, Emma just stood there watching her son blissfully ignorant on his swing. Back and forth, back and forth. On a bench nearby, Granny kept watch and closer to them Rumple was glaring at them both.

Emma couldn't deal with Mr. Gold right now. She simply couldn't care less about any obnoxious schemes or additional confrontations, and when Snow gestured for Emma to go straight to Henry, she felt relieved. Snow could handle Mr. Gold.

There was no more reasons to delay. Emma started walking. Even though it was just a few meters away, it felt like a lifetime. Time went so slowly. Henry smiled. "Hi, mum". She couldn't smile back. But she put on a brave face. A mask.

"Come sit down, Kid", she gestured to a bench. There was no way to sugar coat it. No cause to postpone the inevitable. But she drank in the sight of her happy son for just a moment before breaking the bad news.

"It's about your father", she started. Her voice was unfaltering, her gestures comforting.

"He didn't make it. He was a hero, and he saved us all, but he was shot. Tamara shot him". She stopped. The sentences didn't come out as she had planned. And the heartbreaking look on Henry's face was unbearable. She pulled him close into a hug while she explained what had happened, surprised at how detached she suddenly felt to the whole mess.

Keep Henry safe. Comfort him. Words danced in her head as she talked, all the while rubbing his back, trying to be as kind about it as she could without exaggerating. And then he broke.

Tears fell from his eyes, and he grew silent. More silent than the most quiet graveyard. Was he still breathing? She couldn't tell. Emma reached out to him again, and wrapped him in her arms. "It's ok to cry", she reassured and thought she'd never ever let go.

Back in the Charming's apartment, Regina had finally managed to get up, wash her face, and re-do her make-up with some make-up that could only belong to Emma. She was feeling almost human, and walked back towards the bed-stand to pick up the rest of her clothes including her jacket and boots.

She sat down, put the boots on and zipped them up. Bending down made her head pulsate again, but she tried hard to ignore it as she got up again. Maybe a glass of water would help? She rubbed her neck to try to distract herself from the throbbing, when suddenly sounds entered the hallway.

"Henry!" She forgot her pain, as he ran into her arms and hugged her. For a moment the world was once more perfect and she forgot her pain.

Then the world shook.

Author's Note: I might still finish this story. It can happen. Maybe. But as I'm currently busy starting up with my art career and sculpting, this has not been my priority. If you're interested in seeing my work, please check it out at for instance Etsy or tumblr? And now to finish this shameless advertising, please let me know what you think of my writing - the kind and/or honest words are a big inspiration. Also I know the whole new season and Frozen-plots sort of don't mix into this, but that's what happens when I spend several seasons on actually writing my story. Now let's hope A&E don't mess up things too bad.