A/N: Apologies for the very long wait. It's been a bit. This is part 1 of the 2 part grand finale. So one more and an epilogue.
Warnings: Violence, language, drugs and talk of suicide.
Thanks for all of the kind words. After going on much of this long and grueling ride with me, you know what you're in for and I appreciate those who have stuck it out as we speed towards the finish line.
The sunlight still hurts her sometimes.
Even seven years after her captivity, Regina still has moments where the light from above is simply too bright and her head feels as though it's about to explode from the sheer sensation and intensity of it. She's taken to carrying a pair of stylish sunglasses in her purse or pocket for moments like these, and so, when she steps out of the darkness of underground tunnel and emerges both from the metaphorical blackness as well as the actual one, she slips the shades on.
And then looks around for Emma who should be up here somewhere.
Emma, who has been strong and steady and has been the friend that perhaps she has never deserved.
She tells herself that so much has changed and perhaps the wickedness in her past can finally be put there -in the past where it can't hurt her anymore. She tells herself that maybe once they deal with the Home Office, she can perhaps start to live again.
Maybe tug on a few threads that have recently presented themselves.
Assuming, of course, that she's reading the situation and the signs correctly, and honestly, that's the biggest fear that exists there because when Regina starts to think about things – starts to really think about what appears to be more than a simple just friends kind of interest from Emma – she finds herself wondering why exactly that would ever be there. Why would Emma ever want something more than just a jogging partner and perhaps a roommate of her former enemy?
She pushes these thoughts away for now; there's little that she can do with them and what matters most is locating Emma and talking to her about their next steps in how to deal with the Home Office.
So she rises up from under the ground and the cement and she looks around.
But what she sees – what makes her heart seize before it drops like a ball of weighted lead to the bottom of her stomach – is Snow and David racing up from the parking lot, both looking far more panicked than she has ever seen them.
Except for the day that their precious little baby girl had been taken away from them by a woman whose heart had been darkened by hatred. She closes her eyes for just a moment and tries to steady herself because that was so long ago and the past is the past and everyone including Emma has forgiven her and which means that everything is -
"Where is she?" David demands, his face flushed red and his gun in his hand as he rushes up to her, his movements large and clumsy and overly aggressive.
"Emma?" Regina says stupidly, blinking against the sunlight that isn't actually breaking through her glasses but feels like it is because suddenly her head is pounding and buzzing all at once. She looks around in confusion; Emma should be up here and she should standing here and why isn't Emma up here? "I…"
David is on her before she can even think, his hands grabbing at her shoulders and shaking them almost violently. "Where is she?" he growls at her, his blue eyes dark and ferocious. There's something terrifying there, something scared.
"David," she thinks she hears Snow say, but it's all white noise, distortions. The world is suddenly buzzing around her and she thinks she sees walls forming.
"What did you let them do to her?" David continues, still shaking her, seemingly ignorant of the fact that Regina is not fighting back, oblivious to the way that she's gone pale and how she's almost trembling in a way that's utterly unlike her.
Or at least unlike the woman he had once known.
But right now, all David Nolan is thinking about is his only child and what Snow had told him about the terrifying conversation that she'd overheard between Emma and the bastard who'd confronted her. All he's wondering is if the same monsters who had tortured Regina have now gotten ahold of his daughter and plan to do the exact same thing to her. It's making him see bright red, and though part of him is vaguely aware of what he's doing – and that it's something that he doesn't want to be doing – he can't seem to stop himself from shaking the woman standing in front of him because she might know where Emma is and –
"David!" Snow shouts and then she's grabbing him and ripping him away from Regina. She's smaller than David by far, but she throws all of her strength behind shoving her husband to the side and then stepping between him and Regina.
"Snow," he says, blinking in confusion as the fury and blind rage drains away from him.
"Stop it," she demands. "Just…no, this isn't Regina's fault and you know it."
For a moment, David looks stunned and then he's rapidly glancing between his wife and Regina and suddenly a horrified kind of recognition comes over him because he's staring right at Regina and she's just not in the moment. Wherever she is – whatever terror she's suddenly flashing back to – it's because of him.
"I'm sorry," he breathes, and then takes another step towards Regina. "I'm –"
"No," Snow inserts. "Let me…go see if you can find any sign of Emma, anything that they may have left behind. We need…we need to be smart about this." She wants to say more, but she understands. In spite of the fear rushing through her – for her daughter and for the stunned woman standing in front of her – Snow understands why her husband had come apart. Emma is their whole world, the child that they'd lost for so very long and even the fear of that is too much.
But that doesn't excuse what he'd done, and the sadness she sees in his eyes – the anger at himself – tells her that he more than anyone else is aware of it.
He nods his head slowly and opens his mouth to speak, but Snow shakes her head and it's the still vacant look in Regina's eyes that convinces him that now isn't the time for apologies. He will apologize the moment he can, as much as he can – even more so when Emma is home safe and sound – but just not yet.
She wouldn't hear him, anyway.
He moves away, towards the benches, leaving Snow with Regina.
Letting their history hopefully be enough to help them all through this nightmare.
She's in a car, she realizes. More accurately, she's in the musty trunk of one.
It's not her first time, unfortunately, but Emma can't say that she's any more fond of this experience than she'd been of the last…several. Oh, her days as a bounty hunter hadn't always been glamorous, she thinks wryly (even in spite of her very serious predicament) and they'd led to some interesting journeys.
But this isn't one of those.
The two creeps that have her now are the ones who brutalized Regina for reasons that she doesn't entirely grasp beyond that they'd wanted her magic.
For what, though?
Emma has a terrible idea that she's about to find out.
She feels the car come to an abrupt and slightly nauseating stop, and then she hears the sound of footsteps. There's a click and then the lid pops open.
"Miss Swan," John says with an overly large smile. Her stomach rolls and she feels a surge of anger at the use of the name – oddly, she feels like him using it is taking yet another thing from Regina only this one belongs to her as well.
A hundred retorts come to her mind, some of them are even clever despite the strange drug that she feels making its way through her. She holds her tongue, though because she knows deep down that her capture has little to do with her and everything to do with Regina – they plan to use her to get to Regina.
So she has to keep her wits about her.
And not give them anything that they want.
But that doesn't mean that she can't glare up at him.
"I figured her for more of a talker," Wendy notes as she comes around, her heels clicking against what sounds like…wood? Emma frowns and tries to look past John to see where she is but he's a big man and all she can see is the blue sky.
"Oh, I imagine our girl here is quite the talker with the right encouragement," John chuckles before he reaches down and runs a knuckle over Emma's left cheek.
If he'd been expecting her to flinch away at the touch, she imagines that her lack of response must frustrate him, but he's hardly the first person to try to intimidate her in this manner. She'd been a prisoner and a woman in a man's job and she's fully aware of exactly what bastards like the man above her will do when they think that their sole function in life is to frighten, torment and destroy others.
"Well, then," Wendy says with a sadistic grin. "Let's get to encouraging her."
"Regina," Snow says, a hand on her elbow. "Look at me. You're safe."
The older woman doesn't respond and that's almost more frightening than anything else because she's breathing rapidly and her eyes are wide and shocked and God, whatever she's seeing is making her shake so terribly.
So Snow does the only thing she can do: she wraps her arms around Regina and hugs her tightly and says, "You're not with them. You're home. With your family."
Regina lets out a whimper and flinches - not away from Snow, but rather away from the screaming ghosts in her own shattered mind - and suddenly her hands are trembling so fiercely. She suddenly jerks back like she's been struck and it's almost violent enough to shake Snow, but Snow finds a way to hold on tighter.
And says, "Please come back to me. I need you."
There's a long moment and then she sees Regina blink and it's clear that she's fighting her way back, but it's still not enough to get there.
Snow thinks about what she knows about Regina, thinks about the one thing that even in her darkest days had been true: Regina always protects what means the most to her. She always protects those who protect her.
And in this case, both of those include the Sheriff of Storybrooke.
"Emma needs you," she says gently. "The people who took you have her now and they will try to do what they did to you if you don't help us get her back. We can stop them, but we need you," Regina's eyes flicker up to her and Snow smiles as much as she can manage considering the current situation. "There you are." Her hand cups Regina's cheek. "Are you all right?"
"I…I think so. I'm sorry. I…don't know what came over me?" Regina replies, clearly ashamed. Then, as if remembering, "Emma? She – what happened?"
"I...I heard her get abducted by the man...the one who I think had...had you."
"John," Regina murmurs. Her hand goes up to her temple and she starts absently scratching at it as a migraine starts to thrum just beneath the surface. And of course, then there's the burn of her damaged nerves, radiating up her body.
"Nothing," David says softly as he comes back over, his steps slow. He holds up Emma's shattered cell phone. "Except for this, but I don't think it will help us."
"Probably not," Snow agrees. "Regina –"
"Yes," she says immediately, but almost mechanically.
"What are you thinking about?" Snow prompts.
"The games they play," Regina replies. Her eyes flicker up and meet David's and almost immediately, he opens his mouth as if to apologize but then she's running right off the top of his attempt to speak and she's saying, "Tell me everything."
"You mean about what I heard?"
"Yes," the former queen answers coolly, drawing herself up and steadying her shoulders. Her eyes hard, she says, "I need to know what they want with her."
Emma fights back.
It's what she knows how to do.
It's all she knows how to do.
She thinks about what these two monsters did to Regina and to her family. She thinks about Neal and all the closure that she'll never really get to have with him.
She thinks about Ruby and Henry and how Storybrooke had appeared to heal itself after the bloody siege of ten years ago, but in truth, it never really had.
When John lifts her from the trunk of the car, she scratches and she bites and she digs her nails in as hard as she can, drawing blood wherever she can.
John's clearly both surprised and not surprised by her fight and he even grins as he struggles to hold her, but then she catches him across the eye – in a place where years earlier Regina had as well – and his patience snaps and then he's slamming her down to the hard cement and laughing when she gasps in pain.
"That sounded like something broke," he taunts as she rolls to her side, a hand over her stomach and her eyes tightly closed against the pain rushing forward.
"John, dear, don't dally; we're on a timeline," Wendy orders. "We have a present to deliver to our Queen." She chuckles then, the sound so cold and sadistic. "I expect she'll be finding our other gift for her soon. Do you think she'll enjoy it?"
John glances over at her and then shrugs, "I only wish I'd been the one to get to do it," he replies. "It would have been nice to be the one to kill that smarmy fuck."
"Next time," Wendy promises as she steps away from John and Emma.
"You think he'll make it out of there?" John asks as he pushes Emma down again, his knee shoved hard into her back. You know we can't let him live."
"We told him to come right back here," she reminds him. "But I think we both know that he won't be able to pass up a chance at the Queen. And she'll have to do whatever she must to protect herself as always. I imagine that she'll take care of our problem for us. Now, up with the girl; we have much work to do." She says this over her shoulder as she walks away, her heels clicking against wood.
"Who'd you kill?" Emma demands as John grabs her by the hair and pulls her up, yanking her shoulders back so as to make the pain of her broken ribs worse.
"That's not for you to worry about," John tells her, his mouth (and hot tobacco smelling breath) close to her ear as he runs a hand down her abdomen, resting it for a moment over her broken ribs before applying enough pressure to make her gasp. "The only thing that you have to worry about anymore is making sure that you do me a big favor and put on a convincing show for our dear Regina."
"If you think that I'll help you –"
"Oh, I'm hoping you won't. I'm counting on your resistance. I'm counting you to fight back and struggle and tell her to stay away, it just makes everything that much more impressive and emotional. And the more impressive and emotional you are, the easier it will be to get her to just…give in finally. Because she might have the need to always survive for herself, but for those she cares about – for those she loves and this is what this is all about isn't? Well, I'm guessing that for you and for her little boy, she'll be willing herself on her knees for you. For us."
"What the hell do you want from her?" Emma demands, her teeth clenched.
He grins and then runs his hand across his face, his touch making her think of all of the stories that Regina had told her, of all the torments suffered.
"Everything."
She leads them down the dark hallway, back towards Victor's lab where he will most certainly still be tied to the table, probably still whining in pain because of his shattered wrists. But if he thought that pain was bad, he's going to find out how much worse it can get unless he tells them where they can find Emma.
Regina's done fucking around. Not that she ever really was to begin with, but she's done playing with these monsters. She's lived with them in her mind for so many years and she's felt every mark they left on body a thousand times over, but this is her breaking point. This is them going after what matters to her child.
This is them going after the family that has given her a reason to believe that one day she might finally find forgiveness for her sins; this is them going after the woman who has given her hope that eventually she might find happiness again.
She won't let them take that away.
"Victor," she calls out as she steps in, her hand lifting to flip on the lights. Which is weird because she doesn't recall having turned them off, but maybe –
"Oh my God," Snow whispers.
"I don't think he's going to be able to help us," David says softly, earning a hard look from Regina because really, had any comment been necessary there?
Still, he's right.
Victor won't be helping anyone – friend or foe – ever again.
He's still tied to the table, but it's more like an autopsy slab than an examination one, and it looks like whomever had done this had conducted their postmortem on him while he'd been still alive; his eyes are open in terror and pain, but there's a long Y-cut down his middle and what used to be inside of him is now outside.
It's messy and amateurish, like someone had just vented all of his rage on him.
And God, there's blood…everywhere.
Regina looks at her watch. Fifteen minutes has passed since she'd left him here.
"These people have my daughter," Snow says softly, tears in her eyes.
"We'll get Emma back," Regina promises, turning to look at her. "Today."
"No, you won't," a voice says coldly. "The only way you two will ever see each other again is when they toss her body into the same grave that you're in."
David reacts first, his gun out and quickly trained on the wild haired man as he steps out of the shadows, his clothes streaked and smeared with Victor's blood.
"Owen," Regina breathes. She can feel Snow hovering close to her all of the sudden, anxiety rolling off the younger woman in thick crashing waves.
Owen holds up his hands, one of them still holding a knife stained red. "That felt good. Really…really good," he admits. "But I think this will feel better."
"You take another step and I will bury every bullet in this gun in you," David growls. "In fact, I might do that, anyway. Where did they take my daughter?"
"Back to the beginning," Owen answers with a grin, his voice delivered in a high pitched almost hysterical giggle. "It's a perfect little circle isn't it, Regina?"
"Put the knife down, Owen. You know you're not going to win this one."
"We'll see." He steps forward and almost immediately, a shot rings out and he falls with a loud shout to the ground, a hand over the bloody hole in his knee.
"David," Snow whispers, eyes wide as she sees the hatred in her husband's.
He'd fought so hard to get his family back and what she sees there tells her that he will do whatever it takes to make sure that he doesn't lose it again. But it's a slippery slope and just minutes ago, he'd gone after Regina for the same reason.
It hadn't been okay then.
It might not be okay now.
She doesn't want blood on his hands.
Apparently Regina is thinking the same thing because she steps in front of David and his aim and moves towards Owen. "What do you want to happen here?"
"I want you to die," Owen hisses at her.
"Not by your hand."
"Then let me die."
"Not by my hand. Not if I can help it."
She stands up to walk away from him, her mind already elsewhere, back on Emma and how to get to her and get her out of this nightmare but then she hears him screaming and knows he's rising up to grab at her. She hears Snow cry out for her and then she's turning and her magic is flaring and there's a loud crack as his neck snaps and breaks.
She hears his body hit the ground and it might as well be the echo of a gunshot.
Because apparently she can't help it.
Apparently this story was always meant to end this way.
She was always going to be the beginning and end of this boy's life.
Only her need to find Emma – to make all of this right – keeps Regina up on her feet. The pain rushing through her body is excruciating and her head is on fire.
But none of that matters.
All that matters is finding Emma.
She spits blood out and looks upwards, smiling slightly despite the fact that her heart is pounding and this is quite literally the last place on earth that she wants to be. Her arms hurt from being held over her head (just as the trip in the trunk of the car hadn't been a first for her, this isn't either, but she doesn't like it any better just because she's been here before). She thinks she's been in this position for about an hour or so, but time is moving in a way that she can't even begin to gauge and though she knows it hasn't been that long, she wonders how much worse it had been for Regina to lose time over the course of three years.
"You're back," John says with a grin. The red marks under his eyes – ones made by Regina's hands and by the frightened and furious nails of his other victims - are bright and gruesome, made so much worse by the creepy nature of his smile.
"I was just taking a small nap," Emma answers as she adjusts against the rope restraints, hiding her anger at herself for passing out after the last round of him punching her in the chest with his balled up fists. "What were you saying again?"
"You're a cheeky one," Wendy notes. "I can see why our Queen likes you."
Emma clenches her jaw, refusing to talk to them about Regina again.
"She's getting quiet again," John notes, his knuckles trailing over Emma's cheek.
"Mm. She probably thinks that will matter. You know, silence didn't really help Regina. She still ended up where she did. How she did. Broken and pathetic and whimpering to a shrink about the monster she finally accepted herself to be. Do you know the wonderful things we found in that man's files?" She laughs at that. "Three years we had her and barely got her talking, but she spilled to him."
"How did you get like this?" Emma asks and it's a clawing vicious echo of an old conversation with the woman that she now very much wants to keep far away from her, but she can't help but wonder how a girl that Neal had once adored had become a monster who could torture and kill with such ease. Regina had allowed herself to become exactly such a person and now she has all of the scars of her tumble into darkness, but Wendy seems immune, almost casually fascinated by the ease with which she is able to control and even determine life and death.
And the disturbing pain in-between.
"We all get changed by our experiences," Wendy says. "I faced a demon and lost and then I was given a chance to become better than I ever imagined possible and I took it. And I made it my sole purpose in life – as many lives as needed – to ensure that what happened to me with Pan could never happen to anyone else."
"You think torturing and maiming and killing is what will protect others?"
"I think destroying magic is what will protect others."
"Magic is elemental."
"Yes," Wendy agrees. "And elements can be destroyed by other elements."
"Why not just have focused on taking down the bad guys?"
"Like the woman that you think that maybe you've fallen in love with?" John asks with a smirk. He says the word "love" like it's a joke.
Like it's something sick and disgusting. A perversion of the natural order.
"She's changed," Emma replies, refusing to speak to his words.
"Because I changed her," Wendy reminds her.
"You destroyed her; she rebuilt herself. Into something better. Good."
"She has no good in her. All just dark magic and lies."
Emma doesn't reply to that, just stares back at them.
"And back to silence again. But here's the thing, love: if your precious Queen is as good as you think she is now and if she cares for you as much as you care for her, then she will most certainly come to your rescue. And if you're right and she does, then there's only one way that this can end. With her surrender."
"I won't let her do that."
"You won't have a choice," Wendy tells her, lifting a hand up to trail it down Emma's arm in a gesture that would be almost kind if not for the fact that she's clearly trying to taunt Emma with the bizarrely gentle nature of the strange touch.
And again, Emma finds herself reminded of Regina's terrible stories. She finds herself reminded of tales about sharp fingernails being pressed into open and bloody wounds and of being touched simply to let her know she could be.
"When she does come," Emma answers, accepting that yes, they're probably right and Regina will come for her (though hopefully not all by herself; hopefully her parents will be there, too). "Then we're both going to kick your asses."
Wendy laughs at that and then looks over at the mini-cam that has been staring blankly at them since Emma had been dragged into this wretched and terrible room. "I think it's about time to turn that on. And give the Queen her show."
"I was hoping you would say that," John chuckles and then as if to show off his happiness with his bosses' decision, he pulls back and slams his fist into Emma's gut as hard he can, smiling as she grunts and shudders against her restraints.
Emma sees Wendy turn on the mini-cam, sees the red blinking light showing record and then all she feels is the pain as John performs for the Queen.
She can barely walk by the time they get to Gold's shop and though she's furious at herself for needing it, she doesn't decline David's supporting arm. She knows that David is trying to apologize for what he'd done earlier, but she's just trying to stay up.
"What happened?" Rumple asks immediately, for once dispensing with the games and false formalities. His brow is creased and it's clear that he's concerned about something.
"They have Emma," Snow answers as she takes Regina from David and guides her over towards the counter so that Regina can lean her body-weight against it.
"Victor is dead," Regina adds. "They want me back. We need to know why."
"I can answer that," Rumple replies grimly. "They want your magic."
"I know that part," Regina snaps as a shudder of pain goes through her hip and her legs almost give out from beneath her. She's come to understand that the hurt gets worse when her mental state turns bad, but that's little consolation now.
Because mind over matter only works when your mind is calm and centered.
Hers is anything but that.
"They want your magic to destroy all other magic in this world," Rumple answers and though his voice is soft, there's just a hint of fear beneath his words. He's not a man who scares easily and so it's this understanding that causes her own fear.
"Is that possible?"
"If they have all of it all the way down the cellular level, yes," he nods. "That's what she's been after for the last ten years. You have a very rare kind of magic within you, Regina. It's elemental, natural and strong through practice and use."
"But until I came back here, I hadn't used it in years."
"You can't unlearn what you've learned. Your magic was just…asleep within you, dampened by your fear of it and lack of trust in your abilities or desire to use them again. Which is why they did what they did to wake it up again," Rumple informs her as he moves around to where she is and lightly settles his hands on her. It's an intimate gesture, but for once, it's not an intimidating one. She feels curious warmth spread up her hip and through body and knows that it's the equivalent of a mild magical painkiller but without the mind-altering effects.
"Could they be trying that with Emma right now?" David asks.
"I doubt they're even aware that she has magic within her. Back when Regina was kidnapped, Miss Swan was just coming into the understanding that she had it, but to my knowledge, she never pursued training or use of it. And even if she somehow shows them that she has it now, they wouldn't be able to obtain it quickly or fully. They worked on Regina for years to get her to where they wanted her to be and still didn't succeed. So this is their second plan to force the first.
"I still don't understand," Regina says, standing up straight and testing out the numbness she feels in her hip. It's odd, but it's a workable situation. "How would stealing my magic – even all the way down as you say – destroy all magic?"
"It's that powerful," Rumple states, that grim tone back in his voice again. "True elemental magic is called such because it is part of nature. My magic comes from a blade – most magic comes from artifacts such as wands or books. You had to learn to use those things to focus and channel your abilities, but you always had the capability of being able to cast with just your mind or hands. It was your lack of commitment to the darker intents of your pure magic that slowed you down."
"So they steal my magic –"
"No, they tried that with what Owen did to you. Then they abducted you and tortured you so that they could try to make you give it to them by force and they're now going to try to make you give it them by choice. It's that choice which will make the surrender of your magic that much more…catastrophic," he says.
"Because my magic can destroy all magic."
"If you give them your magic, it's magic in its more pure form and it can be used to cause a sort of…implosion of magic throughout this world," Rumple states.
"This has happened before?"
"In most worlds that are now completely without magic; this one never was."
"So she doesn't give it them," Snow says. "And we find a different way."
"You must," Rumple tells her. "And not just for me or for you."
"Not for you?" Regina counters. "When is anything not for you?"
"Consider magic as being part of the ecosystem of this world. It's like the worms in the earth. They're seldom noticed, but they are essential. And yes, I would be extremely…distraught…about the loss of my magic, but it wouldn't kill me."
"You're saying the eradication of magic could cause more death."
"Besides just yours. And yes, you would need to die to surrender it."
"Suicide," she says dully.
"That's what they've been pushing you towards for ten years now."
"I know," she says softly. "I just never knew why."
"No one is dying today," David says looking directly at Regina and once again she can see the deep apology in his eyes. "No one else."
"Don't make promises you can't keep," Rumple scolds. "And this one you can't."
David doesn't reply to that, just glares at him. He's not used to being helpless, can't handle being told that he just might not win.
But reality doesn't change just because you wish for it to do so.
"Can you help us find Emma?" Snow asks quietly, an odd moodiness to her, like maybe she can see and understand what her husband is unwilling to. "Can you help us stop them?"
"We can do a locator spell, but I'll need an item of hers that means something to her –" He gestures towards the broken phone in David's hand. "More than that."
"I'll call Henry," Regina says softly. "He'll know what means the most to her."
"You want to involve Henry in this?" David asks, clear surprise in his eyes. Of all the things he would have expected from Regina, this is the very last of them. She has been as fiercely protective since her return of her boy as she was before she'd left and it's hard to imagine why she would want him in the middle of this.
"No," Regina admits, sounding terribly tired and even a bit sad. "But we're hardly going to be able to hide what happened to her from him. And he's not a little boy, anymore. He knows what I went through. He can do this much for us." She looks over at Rumple. "And then he stays here with you while we go rescue Emma."
"You don't want my assistance in your fight?" Rumple queries, cocking his head.
"I think we both know that your desire to avenge Baelfire could blind you to our purpose," Regina says pointedly. "So for your son, protect mine. And his."
Rumple blinks out his agreement, no other part of him twitching. But then he says quietly, "You know that you can't give them what they want, don't you?"
"For you or for me?"
"Isn't the same? You'll be dead and I'll be without magic."
"Right now the plan is to find her and bring her home," Regina says softly, looking over at David and Snow. "Everything else will fall into place as it will."
It's an answer that means nothing and the way Rumple is frowning at her in response suggests that he knows as much. But he just reaches out and hands Regina the receiver for the phone on the counter and says, "Call your boy."
Her head drops back against the wall and she gasps as a sharp flash of pain explodes behind her eyes. The actual physical abuse stopped a little while ago – Wendy had sent her thug off to deliver the videotape and now it's just her and this terribly proper and incredibly vile woman – but every part of her hurts.
A lot.
Which is kind of embarrassing because this isn't even a percentage of what Regina had gone through and yet she's already feeling completely worked over.
"Are you resting well, Miss Swan? Getting ready for our next adventure?"
"I was resting. In the quiet. And then you started babbling again. What is it about bad guys and their ridiculous need to never shut the fuck up. I mean, do you guys really think that your super weapon is boredom or something? It would explain why you always end up getting your asses beat all over the place."
"You're a brave girl," Wendy says as she steps over to her. "So confident."
"I have a lot of experience with watching monsters like you go down."
"Monsters like me," Wendy muses. "And yet you're becoming quite friends – perhaps even something disturbingly more than that – with the worst of them."
"What she was isn't what she is," Emma snaps back. "She actually bothered to try to become a better person. She took what you pieces of garbage did to her and she tried to become something worthwhile. That's who Regina Mills is."
Wendy laughs coldly. "You have no idea who she truly is. But don't worry, my dear sweet girl, I'm going to show you. You see, we do much more than just make the Queen bleed or cry. Sometimes, it was entertaining to let her talk."
"I know everything that Regina did."
"Doubtful. But you're about to." She crosses the room over to the video camera and then turns it around so that view screen is visible to Emma. "You see, I had darling Victor keep an eye on the two of you and he told me about this strange growing relationship between you and how protective you've become over her. I thought that before you make any decisions that might affect your son –"
"Her son."
Wendy smiles tightly at that. "That you should hear from her lips what she did to you." She turns the camera on and pushes play. "I must admit that this is just one session. There were many more over three years. But this one is just for you."
The screen flickers on and though it's small, she can plainly make out Regina sitting on a chair in the middle of the room, wearing a torn hospital gown. Her hair is shorn all the way the scalp and there are cuts and bruises everywhere on her.
"Hello, Regina," a voice says; Emma recognizes it immediately as belonging to John who is apparently sitting somewhere off-screen. She focuses on Regina who looks like she's bizarrely drugged and yet in considerable pain. It's the strange metal prods attached to her fingers, though, that get Emma's attention.
They look like they're some kind of device meant to deliver electricity; like the one that had been found here in this cannery after Regina had been kidnapped.
"Let's get this over with," Regina gasps out, shuddering against the apparent coldness of the room but refusing to bring her arms together in order to warm herself. It's like she refuses to give her captor the satisfaction of it.
"Soon enough. We're going to talk about Emma Swan today. I know she's been on your mind quite a bit lately if your night-time delusions are any indication."
"My night-time delusions are brought on my your drugs. Shall we talk about Cookie Monster as well?" she asks. And then she looks curiously to the side.
Like maybe she's seeing someone there that shouldn't be there.
Perhaps the Henry that Regina had seen standing beside her for three years.
"Perhaps. But today we want to talk about what you did to her. The many terrible ways that you ruined her life. Even before it started. Now you know how this works: I'm going to ask you questions and if you lie, you'll be shocked and since the drug in your system will make you incapable of your typical kind of easy sociopathic fabrication, well, you should start with the truth. Or don't; I admit that it's rather entertaining listening to you scream in pain." He chuckles coldly at this.
"I don't care what's on this tape," Emma tells Wendy, tilting her head away and closing her eyes against the image of a badly wounded Regina on the screen.
She'd read the report, absorbed the descriptions of what they'd done to her, but she'd specifically avoided the pictures because she hadn't wanted to see how much a human body can be wrecked; the only thing preventing that now is the thin hospital gown that they have Regina in, but it doesn't hide her face or arms.
It doesn't stop Emma from being forced to notice the ugly and disturbingly fresh wounds that caused the scars that now litter Regina's body.
"You can close your eyes, but you can't un-hear what you're about to hear."
Emma just glares in response.
And tries desperately not to listen as John forces Regina to talk about the past.
About a child that she'd almost murdered.
About a would-be lover that she had murdered in a jealous fit.
About an attempt to frame Snow White for murder.
About a poisoned apple fritter that likely would have resulted in her death.
About a plan to mass murder everyone.
Every detail is laid out. Clean and cold. Meant to cause maximum revulsion.
And then John asks her if she'd considered murdering Emma at any other time.
"Yes," the exhausted and worn down Regina on the tape says, her head lolling backwards as she fiercely shakes beneath the weight of repeated shocks (sheer stubbornness and pride had caused her to refuse repeated orders for information until the point when she simply couldn't stand up to the intense pain any longer).
"What did you want to do to her?"
"I wanted to rip her heart out," Regina replies, almost lazily. If you didn't know better, you'd think that the pain and exhaustion had worn her down to such a simple confession, an admission of unapologetic hatred towards her enemy
"With your bare hands?" John presses, a gleeful excitement in his tone.
"Yes." She smiles strangely then and chuckles as she looks at the camera. "With my hands. I wanted to reach into her chest and pull her heart out and crush it."
"Like your mother who murdered people in that manner. You are her daughter."
"Exactly like my mother did," Regina says and she's still grinning at the camera. "And yes, I am her daughter. And I'd have just as much success as she did."
It looks almost like she's lost her mind, like she's gone entirely around the bend.
But she hasn't, Emma thinks.
Because Regina had been coming apart at the seams, in excruciating pain and her mind had been splitting down the middle from being forced to face the darkest parts of herself and still, she'd been trying to send a message to Emma.
That message is what matters now; it's what makes Emma refuse to give up hope that by the time all of this ends, everything is going to be all right.
Turns out that she's Snow White's daughter after all.
She smiles at Wendy and hopes to hell that it unnerves the crazy bitch.
"Mom!" Henry calls out as he rushes in, and there's something about the way that he moves that makes Regina think for a moment that it's ten years ago and he's still that ten-year-old little boy with an obsession all about a storybook. But he's not that anymore, and when his arms go around her, it's his love that reminds her of that because ten years ago, he might not have been able to hug her like this.
"You brought the blanket," she notes as she steps away from him.
"Yeah," he says, holding up Emma's baby blanket. "But when I got to the house, this was there. For you." He holds up videotape. Addressed to THE QUEEN.
"You think it's from them?" Snow asks. Then, off Regina's look. "Of course it is."
"Rumple, can you play this?" Regina asks, motioning to the tape.
He takes the tape from Henry. "Not with anything that I have." He swirls his hand around and a video camera capable of playing the tape appears in front of them.
"Can you do that trick, too, Mom because cool; can I have a motorcycle maybe?" Henry asks, and it's only because he still doesn't understand exactly why he'd been asked to bring Emma's baby blanket that he's making jokes like this. When only silence greets him, he's looks around as if to find the mother who always gets his lame jokes and that's when he notices that she's missing. "Wait…this tape, this isn't…this is…the ones who attacked me…Mom, what's going on?"
"Henry," Regina says softly. "The people who had me…they have Emma."
"What?" he asks and it's like every part of him just crumbles. "No, they can't."
"Henry, maybe you want to step out of the room," David suggests.
"Is she…is my Ma on the tape?" Henry demands, stepping forward and taking the video camera from his grandmother. He starts to turn it on but gets stopped by Regina, her hand lightly settling over her wrist as she turns him to face her.
"Probably," Regina admits, her face screwing up into a mask of deep regret.
Regret for the hurt her son is experiencing.
Regret for what Emma is going through and doesn't deserve.
She never should have come home.
Never should have put all of them in the middle of this.
But what's done is done and all that matters now is finding a way to fix this.
"You shouldn't have to see this," she tells her son.
"And I shouldn't have had to see what they did to you, but I did. I chose to."
"Henry –"
He pushes her hand roughly out of the way and punches the play button.
And then slaps his hand over his mouth when he sees the images of his blonde mother being struck repeatedly by a large man with big hands. Emma is tough and she grunts more than she cries out, but that doesn't change the visuals.
"Come here," Regina says, pulling her son into her chest. He's taller and bigger than her, but right now he's curling himself into her arms and grabbing onto her for protection and strength. She looks over his shoulder and sees David and Snow hugging in much the same way, David's face a mess of shocked horror.
A voice cuts through everything – the comfort, the horror – and then everyone is looking at the camera again and into the eyes of Wendy Darling. Behind them, Rumple sneers in hatred, his hands tightening as he stares at the woman who had ordered his sons' death. "Your Majesty," she taunts. "It's been a long while hasn't it? We tried to get you to understand our needs in many ways before this but it seemed that your rather persistent need to survive no matter how much everyone would be better without you has kept you alive. Well, darling, I think that time has come to an end. You may not see yourself as the monster that the rest of humanity does for if you did, you would have removed yourself from this world long ago. But perhaps you are willing to see who you truly are for this girl who believes that there is a better person inside of you. Perhaps you are willing to finally face the truth about yourself and the punishment that you have earned for this silly child who protects you even though you will never deserve the love that she is offering to you so freely now. She would die for you, Regina so I suppose the question for you is, would you die for her? You have one hour."
The camera swings around then to show off the location.
"That's what Owen meant," Regina murmurs, thinking of the boy whose neck she'd been forced to snap to stop him from continuing his bloody rampage. He'd become the monster that had created him and thus ended up losing his life in the pursuit of hatred and she thinks with deep heartbreak that that's her fate as well.
"Emma's at the Cannery," David says, his voice dull as he remembers the horrible events that had occurred there ten years earlier - the blood and death.
"So that's where we go," Henry says, pulling himself away from his mother. He doesn't get far, before she's yanking him back and hugging him and whispering into his ear how much she loves him – how much he has always been loved.
"Mom," he says, struggling against her.
"You're going to be safe," she says. "My sweet baby boy. I love you. I love you."
And then she's kissing him on the forehead and a moment later, he's collapsing into her arms, temporarily put to sleep by her magic. She sags to the ground with him, holding him against her even though it causes her hip to ache again. That won't be a problem for much longer and even if it were, she wouldn't give up a moment of getting to cradle her son for anything in the world. She lightly runs her fingers through his thick hair and then across his bearded jaw. He's become such a handsome beautiful and brave young man and he'll be a great father one day.
It's only a shame that she'll never get to see it.
With tears stinging her dark eyes, she finally looks up (avoiding Snow's eyes) and says to Rumple, her voice thick with emotion but somehow still sharp, "You gave me your word that you would protect him; I expect you to keep it."
"I did," he assures her. "And I will. And you gave me your word as well."
"This ends tonight," she promises. And then looks over at David and Snow, "We are probably going to need backup. Just in case everything goes upside down."
"I'll call Ruby and get some help on its way over here," David states.
"Tell them to meet us at the Cannery. We don't have time to wait for them."
"Regina," Snow says. "What are you thinking? What's your plan?"
"Don't worry, Snow," Regina says calmly, almost serenely, a small strange smile on her unpainted lips. "Before this night is over, Emma is going to be resting comfortably in a hospital bed, drugged to the gills and not worrying about a thing.
Her eyes meet Rumple's and he's looking at her like he knows.
But then she's staring back at him and reminding him that he can't stop her.
And if he tries to, she'll go right through him.
So he simply says, "Remember your promise."
She supposes its Rumple's not at all subtle way of saying, "if you're going down, make sure you take them with you." Their eyes meet one last time – history between them and perhaps even the slightest moment of regret before it all flows away into the reality that what's done can't be altered and regrets have little purpose – and then she's nodding and reluctantly handing Henry over to him.
But not before she kisses him one last time.
If this is going to be the end, it won't be it without her remembering him.
He'd gotten her through three years of captivity and now the chance to protect him and ensure that he's never alone will get her through this last test as well.
When she stands, she looks at David and Snow and plasters a smile on her face, using it to hide the years of bone-deep exhaustion that have settled on her.
"Let's go save Emma."
"Thirty minutes," John notes with a chuckle. "Maybe she's not coming."
"Good," Emma spits at him, tasting the tang of iron in her mouth. After his return from delivering the videotape, he'd introduced her to his Taser. She thinks it'll be awhile before she's able to hear the crackle of electricity again without fear.
Not that she would show him it.
No, she's somehow managed to remain defiant and furious and unbreakable.
If Regina can do it for three years, she can sure as shit do it for one night.
"And if she doesn't come, do you how you'll die?"
"Does sound travel underwater? Because if it doesn't, can you drown me?"
"Oh, I'd be happy to drown you; it was one of Regina's favorite things as well."
"I never saw her as being much for water-play, but I'll keep that in mind."
Her attempts to annoy him pay off with a hard strike across the jaw. She hisses as she feels blood running down her cheek. "No, you stupid girl, you're going to die in the most painful way I can possibly come up with. And as you do, I promise that you will remember that the reason you are is because you cared for her."
He sneers when he says that and it's clear he means a different word than care.
But she won't play that game with him.
Because whatever there is or isn't between she and Regina, it's theirs.
And they'll have plenty of time to figure all of that out when this is over.
Maybe over a nice bottle of wine and a plate of chicken chow mien.
So with this idea in her head, Emma grins back at John and says coolly, "I would rather die caring for someone than be alive and be a worthless piece of shit like you. But then, I guess you can't really help being what you are, can you?"
John's hand lifts as if to strike her again, but gets stopped by a palm settling over it. "She's goading you, my love," Wendy says. "And then Queen will come."
"You're so sure," John notes.
"Not me," Wendy says. "Her. She's stalling for time. Goading you into trying to exhaust yourself so that when Regina arrives, perhaps she can defeat you."
John looks over at Emma; she shrugs her sore shoulders at him and grins, her teeth bloody. "What can I say? Stupid apes are fairly easy to goad."
"Right." He reaches up and grabs Emma's jaw, squeezing it between his fingers and smirking when she can't stop herself from crying out in pain. "But here's the thing, sweetheart: the ropes that are holding you up are electrified which means the only chance she has of getting you free is to give us what we want. There is not going to be a battle – just surrender. For you to live, the Queen must die."
She thinks that she should find a bit of comforting irony in the staggering finality of what's about to happen; she's walking towards the end of the road (the end of her road, anyway) and for the first time in her life, she's not completely alone. She has Snow on one side and David close beside on her on the other, the both of them moving with her like they're a team. Like they're an unbeatable family.
But the truth is that they're not unbeatable.
The truth is that before this night is over, one of them - her, she thinks with entirely inappropriate humor - will have been beaten.
Defeated a final time.
And this time, by her own hand.
But David and Snow don't know that; they don't know that she's not planning to leave this horrid building alive.
They think that it's the three of them on their way to rescue Emma. They think that this is all about ending this terrible nightmare that has gone on too long. And it is, but she knows that it can't end the way they think it will.
It won't end because Prince Charming is good with a sword and Snow White still remembers how to use a crossbow. It's going to end because these vicious people have wanted something from her for a long time, and now, finally, they're going to get it.
They want her to give in and tonight, that's what she intends to do.
They want her to surrender and so she will.
Yes, her sacrifice (suicide, she tells herself, because the other word is too noble for the end of her existence) will cost this world all of its magic and perhaps it's selfish to be placing the life of one woman over the many others that could be affected, but this isn't just one woman - this is the one who'd had the strength and heart to believe in her. For that, almost any cost is acceptable.
She hopes that Henry will understand, prays that Emma will help him.
She thinks that maybe – just maybe - it will all be okay eventually (in time) because she's only been back a few weeks with Henry and Emma now and though her son assuredly loves her, maybe he can be proud of her for saving Emma's life.
Maybe she can earn her redemption this way and maybe - just maybe - she can finally satisfy her need for atonement.
Maybe she will finally have paid enough penance and can finally rest.
It's this thought - this hope - that pushes her feet forward even knowing where this path will lead her. Where it will end.
It's this thought that makes her step into the Cannery for the first time in ten years.
To end things where they began.
TBC….
As always, I can be found at sgtmac7 over on Tumblr.