Falling in the Frey

Summary: (AU) Master Sergeant Emma Swan and her team are commissioned to escort and protect Ms. Regina Mills, a feisty civilian, in the warzone of Freylache.

Pairings:Emma/Regina (eventually)

Disclaimers:I do not own OUaT or any of it's characters. I do, however, like to take them out of their boxes and play with them.

A/N: This story is not meant to reflect any real life countries, wars or militaries. I have never served in the military, so I hope my research and personal life experiences are sufficient to create a realistic story.

I have a beta! (Does a happy dance) A big thanks to Elodealeaf, who has volunteered to beta this story (I've already learned so much from her.)

Thanks again to everyone who reads, follows or favorites this tale. And a very big thank you to those who take a moment and post a comment, even as a guest. Your feedback is so important! It helps me know if I'm on track or gone off the rails. lol

Chapter Twenty-one

The next few days went by in a routine; I went and caught some sleep after my 0800 meeting with Lieutenant Mulan, then woke in time to dress and make my appointment time with Doctor Hopper. After that, I worked on a variety of paperwork, cleaned my weapons, went for a three mile run and visited the canteen in the rec hall to hang out with Ruby until it was time for my night guard duty at 2200. I had nine hours of guarding the increasingly withdrawn and sullen Regina Mills, followed by Nolan relieving me at 0700, grabbing breakfast and meeting with Lieutenant Mulan at 0800.

I had asked the Lieutenant at our last meeting who the hold-up was for my team to get cleared.

She looked straight at me. "Master Sergeant, you know that's confidential information."

"Yes, I'm aware. It's just that my team's getting antsy."

"Well, between you and me, I'll just say that Ms. Mills is her own worst enemy." She confirmed my suspicions; my team had been cleared, but Regina had not.

That afternoon, at my meeting with Archie, I was determined to see if there was anything I could do to help Regina.

"Emma, come on in." Doctor Hopper welcomed me into his office for our session. "How are you doing today?" he asked as I sat down in my usual spot on the couch.

"Doin' alright, doc. How's your day going?" I relaxed in the soft cushion. I had decided I really liked talking to Archie.

"Well, it's been interesting." He softly laughed. "I've been spending quite a bit of time with your team."

I laughed at that. "Well aren't you lucky?"

"So what would you like to talk about today, Emma?"

I paused, deciding which topic I wanted to tackle first. " We've been meeting for a few days now, Archie, and there are a couple things I'd kinda like to talk about."

"Please, go ahead." He encouraged.

I blew out a breath. Planning on talking about it and actually talking about it were two different things. "Alright...so you know I have bad dreams, right?" I tried to ease into this, for my sake more than his.

"Yes, I've read your former psych evaluations and the doctor's notes. I'm sure this isn't easy to talk about, but know that I'm here to help you."

"Yeah, so okay..." Damn this was tough.

"Take your time Emma, there's no hurry." He sat back.

"Okay, I have nightmares. Not all the time," I added quickly, "just sometimes when I'm really tired, or stressed, or fall asleep by myself..."

"Alright, so let's start by you telling my some of the details of your dreams; are they usually the same, or does it change?"

"Always the same." I said flatly. "I just have the same memory over and over."

"So your dream is actually something that happened?"

"Yeah, pretty much; it happened last tour."

"What happened last time you were in the Frey?"

" You've read the report."

"I have; but it's important that I hear your version from you." He gave a reassuring smile. "Sometimes the official report doesn't give many details."

I sat quietly for a few minutes, watching the clock's second hand tick by; finally I broke the silence. "My squad was part of a Company that was deployed on a one year tour of duty. We were all assigned to Combat Outpost Isler, in the Fyrith region. I had three fire teams under my command, with four soldiers in each fire team. Anyways, we had been patrolling a small town not too far from Fyrith, but Captain Stone, our Commanding Officer, he reassigned us to a different village that was another half hour from the Outpost. We had to travel there in three jeeps everyday; thirty minutes there, thirty minutes back." I opened the bottle of water that Archie had set on the table next to me and took a couple sips to help ease my cottonmouth.

Setting the bottle back down, I continued. "So, we'd been doing this for over three weeks; everyday the same thing. Same route, same road, same time; I tried to get the Captain to let us vary things, I was worried we'd become an easy target for the local insurgent forces. But he wouldn't listen to me; he said he had been doing this a hell of alot longer than I had, and that when I was a Captain, I could make the hard decisions." I licked my dry lips and willed my leg to quit shaking. "One morning, we headed out, the twelve of us in three jeeps. I was in the middle jeep with my fire-team when our caravan was ambushed." I felt the hot tears rolling down my cheeks. "I'm sorry." I apologized.

"You're doing great, Emma." Archie passed me a box of tissues. I took a moment to wipe my eyes and blow my nose. There wasn't a trash can that I could see, so I just stuffed the tissues in my pocket.

"The first jeep ran over the IED; they never stood a chance. We managed to get their dogtags, but that's all." I could feel the tears falling freely again, but this time I just angrily wiped them away and continued talking. "My jeep was caught in the wave from the explosion and we rolled twice, landing on the jeep's top. All I could see was smoke and all I could hear was screaming and machine guns; I undid my seat belt and fell to the ground. It hurt so bad; I didn't know my leg was broken, I just knew I needed to find my team. The last jeep pulled off the road and managed to return fire at the insurgents. Eventually the insurgents were all eliminated. I lost five of my soldiers that day, and two more that were badly injured. That's pretty bad odds considering there were only twelve of us."

"How did you get back to the Outpost?" Archie leaned forward.

"Once the fighting was over, I ordered the able-bodied soldiers to find the missing ones. I pulled myself back into the jeep and found the radio to call it in. It felt like forever, but the record says it was less than an hour before the medics arrived to help."

"Emma, I know that wasn't easy for you to talk about. You did a great job, and if you want to stop there, we can."

"Archie, I just want the nightmares to go away." I blew my nose again, trying to clear it..

He pushed his glasses back up on his face. "Tell me about your dreams. How are they different than the story you just shared with me?"

I considered the question for a moment. "A lot of it's the same, like the smells and the sounds. In my dream though, I always find the driver of my jeep; his head's half blown away and I touch his warm, sticky blood. The dream always ends with my leg feeling like it's on fire, and then I scream and wake up."

"Did the driver of your jeep die in the battle?"

"No, Corporal Leroy was the driver; he caught shrapnel in his back and is disabled, but he lived." I realized that part of my dream wasn't right.

"Emma, every time we recall a memory, our brain changes it a little. And the subconscious, where the dreams come from, well, there's a lot going on in that part of the brain. I'd like you to try something that I've found can be effective."

"Alright, as long as it doesn't involve needles." I knew I was supposed to be a soldier, all tough and warrior-like, but truth was even the thought of getting a shot caused me to be nauseous.

"No needles, I promise," his soft voice assured me. "Part of why nightmares can be so scary is that as the dreamer, we feel out of control of what's going to happen."

That made sense to me.

"But there's been good success in trials where people are taught to prepare for the dream so they can better control it. Is that something you're willing to try?" He asked earnestly.

"Yeah, why not?" I nodded, eager at the chance to get rid of the dream.

"Then I want you to write down the dream, but leave out the hard parts; like the pain in your leg and finding Corporal Leroy dead." He glanced up at the clock. "I have to end our session, but if you're willing to hang around, I'll see you for five minutes after my next session is over."

I accepted the pad of paper and pencil that he offered me.. "One more thing, Archie. Is there anything I can do to help Ms. Mills? I know this can't be easy on her; she's becoming more and more withdrawn and barely even speaks to any of us."

Doctor Hopper gave me a quick, small smile. "Let me think about that for a bit." He stood and showed me out. I realized that my session had run over it's time limit when I saw Blanchard and Regina waiting to meet with Dr. Hopper. "Ms. Mills." Archie greeted her. "Thank you for waiting, come on in."

Wordlessly, Regina stood and entered the doctor's office. I sat down next to Blanchard and asked how her day was going.

"Oh, the usual, you know? Have you heard anything about when we're going to be off restrictions?"

"No, hopefully it'll be soon though. I know everyone's getting anxious to have work to do." I realized I was going to be there for the next forty-five minutes. "Hey, I have to stay anyways, why don't you go relax while is in with Archie and come back to pick her up?"

"Are you sure?" Her eyes twinkled and I realized that Nolan was off-duty at the moment.

"Yeah, yeah, go. I'm just going to sit here and work on this." I showed her my blank pad of paper.

"Well you don't have to ask me twice! I'll be back before she's finished. God knows I'd never hear the end of it if she had to wait two minutes for me." She stood, giving me one last questioning look. I waved her on with a smile. Truth was, I really didn't want anyone hovering over me while I worked on writing down the details of my dream.

I wasn't sure if Doctor Hopper's office was soundproof or if they were just talking softly; either way, I couldn't hear noises coming from the room. I was curious as to what she would be saying to him, but I decided it would be kind of impolite to go and press my ear against the door. Still, my interest was piqued.

...

"Good afternoon Ms. Mills, it's good to see you again." Doctor Hopper smiled at the haughty woman as she looked at him with disdain. He ignored the look and offered her a beverage; she declined as she gracefully sat in the wingback chair and smoothly crossed her legs. Her arms settled on the armrests and she looked very intimidating. Archie sat in his usual seat, notepad in hand. Perhaps today would be the day she would open up. From her posture he knew she wouldn't, but he had to try.

"So, Ms. Mills, how are you today?" Again, he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Bored." She flicked an imaginary piece of lint off her pants, hoping to stave off his questions.

"It was nice to see you at the dance last night." He had joined some friends in the Rec Hall. He didn't dance, but it was always enjoyable to hang out and enjoy the music.

A small, unbidden smile came to her lips as she thought of Emma teaching her the two-step. "Yes, I enjoyed the dancing."

"Good." He returned the smile. "It's important to do things you enjoy. What other kinds of things do you enjoy doing?"

The smile disappeared from her face, replaced by a flash of resentment that was quickly masked. "Being able to do my job; so why don't you just clear the team and let me get back to my business?"

Well played, Archie thought.

"Doctor, there is something else I enjoy doing." She gave him a sultry smile as she leaned forward and touched him above the knee. "I'm sure it gets lonely out here for a man like you," Regina wet her lips with the tip of her tongue as her hand slowly travelled up his leg. "And I think we could both benefit from a little," she ran her nails softly on the inside of his thigh, "therapy." Their eyes locked; his in confusion, hers in control. It took a second for him to break away from the spell she had cast on him.

He skittered backwards, nearly knocking over his chair in his haste to escape. "Ms. Mills," he whispered harshly, "that is highly inappropriate!"

Regina had returned to her former position. She was studying the back of her hand and her nails, acting as if nothing had happened. "Still," she said callously, "it could have been fun, at least for you."

The psychiatrist took a deep breath to center his thoughts; he was at his wit's end with this exasperating woman. "Ms. Mills I realize that it's futile to go around in circles about this every day with you; the truth of the matter is, you are the only one on the team that hasn't been cleared. Nobody else is sabotaging you, or trying to keep you from getting out and doing what you came here for...that's all on you." He sat in quiet frustration, hoping the words would sink in.

The moment stretched on in heavy silence. Archie looked at the clock; it was time for the session to end. "Ms. Mills, our time is up, but here's the deal: we will meet again tomorrow, but if you aren't willing to open up and talk to me in a sincere and meaningful manner, then I'm sorry but I'll have to keep you all restricted indefinitely to Camp Azor."

Regina was on her feet instantly, standing inches away from the doctor, letting her fury run free. "You don't have the balls to do that."

He resisted, taking a step back. He looked with a calm confidence at the fiery woman. "You're angry, that's good. And I do have the guts to make the decision. Good day, Ms. Mills." He stepped over to the door and opened it up, a silent invitation for her to leave.

Regina strode indignantly out the door, searching for Sergeant Blanchard so she could leave the office. Blanchard was there, sitting next to Emma. The sight of the blonde woman threw Regina off-kilter; she had not anticipated seeing the Master Sergeant sitting in the chair, writing on a notepad. She spun around and rebuked the doctor. "You're kicking me out just so you can fill Ms. Swan in on my failure? So much for being a professional."

Emma quickly stepped in. "Ms. Mills, this has nothing to do with you and everything to do with my nightmares." She hadn't intended to share the last part, but there it was.

"Forgive me if I don't believe you." Regina snapped, her arms wrapped tightly around her torso.

For a moment, Emma thought Regina was going to cry; the moment passed as Regina turned to Mary Margaret. "Sergeant Blanchard, if you're done gabbing, I'm ready to go."

...

I watched Regina walk out with Blanchard in tow before I glanced over at Archie. Apparently the therapy session didn't go well.

"Okay then..." I broke the silence.

Doc Hopper looked at me, realizing that I was still there. "Emma, of course." He said distractedly as he watched the now empty hallway. He shook his head and focused on me. "Come on in, thanks for waiting."

I sat down in 'my spot' on the couch and waited while he collected himself. He took a couple of minutes before he finally sat down and smiled at me.

"Rough session?" From what I'd seen, Archie wasn't one to get easily flustered; plus the fact that he was an Army Officer, a Major no less, spoke to his ability to keep his cool when things got hot. But the man sitting before me was quite clearly ruffled.

"Yeah," he gave a sad smile, "she has difficulty opening up."

"Ya think?" I felt my cheeks redden when I realized I had said the comment out loud.

"I was at the dance last night." He shook his head. "Regina just looked so different when she was dancing with you and having fun. I don't think that happens very often in her life."

I considered his words. He was right, when we danced Regina's eyes would light up and her face would just...soften. Off the dance floor in life, she was guarded and she was angry all of the time. That is, when she wasn't cowering from her mother. "So, why is she always mad?" I mean, the woman had millions of dollars, jet planes, probably even a condo on some island; she seemed to have it all, but there was so little joy in her life.

"Anger is an emotion that we use to cope with other feelings that, whether we realize it or not, we may be trying to hide. Sometimes emotions like fear, insecurity, or feeling powerless, manifest themselves in anger. Think of a child who wants to run into the street, but is told no by his parent; they may throw a tantrum because they feel out of control of the situation. It makes them angry, even if we as the adults know it's for their own safety."

"You think she's afraid?"

Dr. Hopper paused, "I think it's possible for anyone who just witnessed the death of eight human beings. It doesn't matter that they were the enemy or that they shot first. They were alive, now they're not, and everybody involved in that has been impacted on some level. If someone can't talk about it..."

"Yeah. You can't let go of what you keep inside." I remembered the quote from my last therapist.

"She may be angry because I told her that if, by tomorrow, she can't have a meaningful discussion with me, I'll postpone your mission indefinitely."

"Ah, so she was throwing a tantrum, got it." It clicked why she was so defiant with him.

"It appears so." He shrugged. I could tell he was frustrated at not being able to do his job. It seems we were all in that same boat.

"How can I help?" It's not that I didn't want to go home to Camp Brookes; I could be with Henry, go bike riding, read a book, or watch TV. It's just I didn't want to leave this job undone, it would feel like I failed.

"I have a couple ideas, but unless she's willing to try, I'm just banging my head against a wall. Anyhow, this session was supposed to be about your dreams, so let's focus on that; may I see what you've written?"

The session went on for another fifteen minutes or so. He gave me some advice on how to help myself if the nightmare happened again; that when I got to the part where I find the driver dead, I can tell myself it isn't real. Hopefully reading the censored version of my dream before I fell asleep would also help to rewire my brain to cope better with it.

We were just about finished when I had a crazy idea; of course, I didn't say it was crazy when I told Archie about it. I mean, who would say that to a Psych doc? But I told him the idea, in part because I wanted to know what he thought of it and in part because I needed his help to pull it off. As a Major he had access to places on the base that enlisted soldiers normally didn't know existed; but thanks to Sergeant Gold, who bartered two bottles of his rum to the right officer last trip, I knew about the hidden oasis. As Archie made a phone call and reserved it for the following evening from 1900 to 2100, I mentally made a list of everything I would need to make my plan happen.