Author's note: Thank you to MarieYotz for the betaing. Have a wonderful vacation, dear.
Author's note number 2: The Jane Bond Steamboat Shipping Company is proud to announce the completion of this story. That's right, you read it here first: It's finished. There are exactly two chapters and one epilogue to go that are completely written and require only some polishing up and tlc. So stay tuned for further the remaining instalments in short order.
Much love to you all,
Jane
Chapter 24
It was too short of a ride to be described as anything, but her second time through the hat was not any easier than the first. The first was merely a blur anyway, but there was one thing that was common: the feeling that something had taken your brain and your gut and, after scrambling them around for a bit, had chucked them into the complete wrong place.
When she came into awareness, there was only disorientation and seasickness. Without the sea.
Emma looked around her, trying to understand where she was and her first thought was that she should have brought the mad fucker along for the ride because this could not be right: it was a totally alien landscape of red soil and mad vegetation, everything both too devastated to alive and too wild not to. The sky was lead grey with the sun barely penetrating through the heavy thunder clouds, the air cloying and heavy, as easy to breathe as syrup.
Well, at least they were alive, wherever this was. Was it the Enchanted Forest? There was very little left by way of that: most of the trees had been uprooted but were still green as if I had just happened and it all had the general look of a ploughed field without any redeeming grace.
This could not be it. She sat still where she was, her legs uncooperative, and let her training kick in: study the environs and find the mark before trouble finds you. This could not be the world she needed to come to. God would only know where she had brought them, but this could not be the Enchanted Forest. It did not look a thing like Henry's book. Hell, it did not look a thing like a forest or like a Disney movie.
She looked around her for Leroy and found him a few feet away from her, slumped face down on the red earth. "Leroy." The surroundings distracted her. Shouldn't there be noise? Noise was a constant of existence. Nothing exists in silence but the silence in this place made her want to sing just to fill it, just so that it did not buzz in her ears like a nightmare.
"Leroy!" She asked more forcefully. Where the hell were all the birds? There were birds everywhere, right? Birds and flies and creepy crawlies that made nature noises. "Leroy!" she almost screamed because she was freaking out ever so slightly and if he was awake he could at least tell her something useful like yeah, this is the right place or shit, sister pick up that hat and lets adios this place. Anything. "Leroy!" Anything at all just to break the silence.
.
.
Leroy stirred and tried to move against the mother of all hangovers. Like, really, the queen bitch of hangovers. If only he could remember drinking. There was no aftertaste of beer in his mouth. His teeth felt surprisingly hairless for such a hangover and his head was just spinning, not actually trying to kill him in revenge. Something was not quite right. And when he opened his eyes, he was sure of it.
"Well… this ain't it, boss."
"Leroy?" That was panic if he'd ever seen it. And that was not good news for him. He might be of stocky build but he was not prepared to be the lead on this operation. She was his to follow, he was hers to command. And that was it.
And then she got it together. She stood up and looked around her, focused on the only thing standing for, probably, miles: an oak sapling. Dusted her jeans and checked her father's sword and her gun. When she was done with the patting and screening routine, he could feel calm and purpose coming off of her in waves.
"Okay. Okay… No, this is has to be it. The hat takes us where we need to go. So this is the place." Leroy nodded because that was news he liked; certainty he appreciated. "This is your hometown, Leroy, believe me."
"Sister, that place had mountains, rivers and magic and it was alive. I haven't yet heard a peep out of anything. Do you hear any rivers, any creaks? The wind?"
"No. But this is the place. The hat has rules. Magic has rules. Believe me."
He did. He believed her. "Okay. So something happened here."
"Probably the curse."
"It killed everything?"
"Let's find out. Welcome home, Leroy."
"Welcome home, Princess." Leroy bowed almost mockingly, but regretted it immediately. What a waste it was not a hangover.
"This was never home for me, Leroy. I was born here. Doesn't make it a home.
"Where's home then?" For a second, Emma looked lost. "Just so that I know where we're gonna click our ruby red heels to when we're done here." He tacked on just because he needed the compass Emma was and if she was spinning and spinning, that would probably scare him half to death, bearing in mind that they had jumped out of a hat to a land that was not supposed to exist anymore.
Emma looked around her and he was not sure if she was considering her reply or if she was just that focused. She pointed her finger at the distance and started walking. Leroy followed.
"Regina." She said after a while.
"Huh?"They had been walking in silence and the word could have meant anything without explanation.
"Home. When I think of home, I think of her."
Leroy had a momentary hesitation in his step and then continued walking without an answer.
"Is that weird?"
"Don't know. My brothers used to be my home. It really didn't matter where we went to sleep, so long as we were all there. When Stealthy died, it was like that home was missing a wall, you know?"
"So… is Nova your home now?"
It took a while for Leroy to reply but it was okay. They had a ways to go if they were to go anywhere. They had time to let words simmer. "Have you ever seen a rescue dog?"
"Yeah…"
"There was one that used to come and bunk with me at the service entrance of the hospital. Barked an awful lot, showed his teeth a fair bit. But he was a good dog. Always walked with his tail between his legs." Leroy said as if that explained it. Or anything at all.
"So… do you have your tail between your legs?"
"Yeah. Can't help it. When she was ready, I wasn't. Blue's doing, actually. She just had to go and stir the pot."
Understanding washed over Emma. That was why Leroy had warned her not to leave Regina alone with Blue. She had a fleeting thought of tossing that hat on the floor and go back home just to make sure, sort of like going back and checking if the tap was really off or if the iron was unplugged and the doors locked. Then she steeled herself and kept walking.
"How did she stir what she stirred?"
"Said that Nova was a bird and I was a fish."
"I don't get it."
"You're not much for poetry, huh?" Emma shrugged dismissively. "S'alright. You still have your looks…" When Emma glared at him, he considered his mission accomplished. "Guess the follow up to that is that a bird and fish may fall in love, but where would they live?"
Honestly, Emma had no reply to that except why would it matter to anyone else but, she supposed, that did a poor job of arguing the case.
"Very few things hurt more than hope drying in your chest, sister."
"True. Does that mean that you're done trying?" Emma found that she was genuinely interested in the question because Regina was that bird and she was that fish. Or the other way around, not that it really mattered. When it came down to it, they were both really, just sad rescue dogs no one could hope to take on.
"No." He replied after some consideration. "I haven't stopped trying. Just means that I bark a lot… and fuck it up a lot more. There!" Leroy pointed at the distance but Emma would be damned if she could see anything but the clouds, dense and heavy that overcast the sky. Still, they both ran towards god knew what.
~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~
The silence was abrupt when the vortex of the hat closed. Regina held on to the bars and closed her fingers as tight as her bones and muscles would allow because the pain of the burn on her skin was easier to feel than that of her heart- a slow, unstoppable cracking that was all too familiar.
Emma was gone through the hat. Her lungs burned, burned, burned, out of breath as if that hat had sucked it all out of her, out of the cave.
Emma was gone.
.
.
It was different this time. Emma had chosen to go. Chosen Regina. There was no hope in this leaving of Emma's, so the devastation of the loss was just that: devastation.
Snow looked at Regina behind the bars, her usual stoic self, the face composed, not a crack in the armor and if only she had seen some horror in that beautiful face, something that told of heartbreak, of immeasurable loss, then it might have been… easier? Was easier even the word she was looking for?
She wanted to see Regina crushed by loss. Snow wanted Regina to feel it and rage against it, cry and scream and just show it for once. Instead, Snow was left with her own breaking heart and a not so small voice at the back of her head that reminded her of that pregnancy that could not possibly be and a wealth of experience with Regina and her cold manipulation.
"It took you twenty-nine years, but you took her from me." She shook David's strong grasp on her arms and approached the bars, closing her hands around Regina's, pressing them even further into the burning bars. Good, she thought, maybe they would leave a mark, so deep, so indelible as this void left by Emma was to her. "Are you happy now?"
.
.
Regina made no move to pull away from the bars, showed no sign of discomfort, no hint of grief. David was reminded of so many years ago when they'd had her ready for the public execution, of her defiance and cold disdain. An unbreakable armor. And of how Snow, his Snow, had told him she had seen a scared woman behind that mask. The same Snow that could not see it now.
.
.
The silence left in the wake of the hat broke. Snow's voice cracked it, David's boots on the ground smashed it and Nova's sweet voice was the final explosion. She grabbed Snow's wrists and struggled to make her release Regina's hands. David tried to pull Snow to him, but it took Ruby to break Snow's stubborn hold.
Ruby stood next to Snow and grabbed her face in her hands and calmly told her "Let her go, Snow. You're hurting her."
Snow turned her head slowly to Ruby as if she'd been trying to warn of treason but Ruby did not back down. She held Snow's gaze and told her again, voice soft but steady and unyielding: "Let her go, Snow. You're hurting her." Snow's eyes welled up and she shook her head no, no, no without unclenching her fingers. "Let her go." And that finally did it. Snow released her grip, David pulled her back and Nova immediately stepped between the bars and Snow.
And there was silence again, broken only by Snow's hard sobs.
Regina remained holding on to the bars. Nova could not make her let go.
.
.
David and Ruby took her away then. Regina saw Snow go in the arms of people that cared so deeply about her. And here she was again, alone. Safe for the memory of a kiss.
"Snow." The sound was low, barely a rasp through the tightness in her throat. She tried again, louder this time. "Snow!" And the movement stopped. "I am sorry. I love Emma. I love your daughter." And still she held on to the bars, despite Nova's fawning attempts to make her let go. They were the only thing keeping her upright.
"And your love has meant nothing. Toxic. Always toxic. She's gone."
Snow walked out then, and Regina simply shook her head at Nova, asking her to please go. She could not deal with anyone now. Not even with well-meaning kind hearts. She understood Snow. She understood a mother's scorned love. And she felt it too, the guilt of letting Emma go. So she let go of the bars, retreated into the darkness and slid to the floor, burnt hands resting open on her legs. When the last of Nova's steps finally echoed off, the mask finally slipped and the tears slid, fell, rained on her burnt hands.
Emma…
.
.
Snow closed her eyes against the sunshine outside. She had lost her daughter again. She had lost her because of Regina. Always Regina. She burrowed against David but he pulled her to the side and leaned her against a boulder.
"Listen to me, Snow. I know it hurts. Believe me, I know it does. I shoved Emma into that wardrobe the first time around, so I know. But you know better than this. You knew it back then when you stopped the execution all those years ago."
"I should have let her die that day."
"Snow… you know better than that. You are better than that."
"Am I?"
~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~
They walked until the sun was down and there was only an inky darkness without the relief of streetlights, headlights or even the moon or the stars. No noise either, of any sort. No crickets or cicadas, no night birds, wolves or even the rustling of the wind. It was like living in a muted world, no sense of depth or perception without sound to guide you. Emma's feet were, even in her comfortable boots, a mush of skin and muscles and whatever was left of her bones.
"We need a rest, Leroy." She leaned against the bark of a felled tree, the roots hanging obscenely in the air, immobile in their suspension without wind or animals to move them along.
"I've been praying for over an hour for you to say that. How about we bunk here for the night?"
Emma slid to the ground as her only reply. She wanted only to lie down and sleep. Possibly some food and water if they happened to pass her way and sit on her hands. They had been walking all day. It was difficult to say how long without a watch. And she was quite certain that they'd been moving around in circles. "Let's get find some water, something to eat." Okay, so it was her job to be the leader here. Ah, fuckin' ah.
Leroy thought fondly of the emergency Poptart he usually carried around in his pocket. You never knew when you might need one. It turned out, this was just one such occasion. "I could eat." They each pulled away from their spot on the floor and spread out. Emma ambled around, too tired to really see anything, her eyes unaccustomed to the darkness. She returned to what she thought might be the place where they had separated but there was nothing there to tell her Leroy would come back here. Nothing provided a land mark. Not one tree stood. It was a forest of uprooted trees, laying on the ground as if a hurricane had picked them like carrots out of the ground and the clearing was just like any other clearing left by the absence of a tree. She called out to Leroy. He shouted a reply and walked back towards her voice.
"I found water."
"More than I did."
"Here you go." Leroy handed her a grubby plastic bottle from the pocket of his jacket. "Some food would be nice."
"Got chewing gum."
"Is that a food group?"
"It should be." Emma stated flatly. "Leroy, shouldn't there be like… I don't know, animals, wild animals or at least bugs and flies and…"
"Yeah… Haven't seen so much as a cricket here."
"So what are we gonna eat?" Emma drank her water deeply and passed the bottle back to Leroy. The water tasted funny.
"Boss, that's a very fine concern but shouldn't we worry about what happened here? It's like a nuclear bomb fell or something."
"It kind of did. Regina did." And that was the rub. She'd been thinking about it all day, the destruction, the emptiness that was left. "I think. I mean… I think this is because of the curse…"
Leroy looked around at the dark gray sky without a star to guide them and the uprooted trees that littered the ground and the absence of everything else. "Huh… So many talents in one half-pint of a woman."
A gurgle of laughter started at the back of her still dry throat, and the more she thought it was a bad thing to do, to laugh at that, the more the bubble of laughter expanded and grew until it was out, the sound so unaccustomed in her. She laughed until tears ran down her face and she was out of strength. Leroy was laughing too, hands tucked under his arms as if that could have kept the laughter in.
"Ah, heck with it. It's not like I was ever attached to this place."
Emma looked around and the devastation of everything was sobering. There was very little left of the Enchanted Forrest and its bountifulness. Very, very little. Mostly, just debris.
"It must have hurt so damned much." Leroy said appreciatively.
"Yeah. More than I had imagined, Leroy." And they both fell silent, both thinking back to plates and glasses and furniture they had broken in fits of rage and pain. Yeah, it must have hurt so damned much.
"I'll tell you what, princess, I'll build us a fire. At least it won't be so dark." So they got up again and gathered wood and then Leroy took a book of matches from his pocket and started the fire.
.
.
Emma stirred and opened her eyes. She thought fondly of coffee while getting her bearings. Uprooted trees: check. Overcast sky: check. Unbreathable air: check. But when she sat up, it, somehow, did not look like the same place where she'd gone to sleep. There had been no oak sapling standing in the midst of a whole forest of felled trees and she as now looking at one.
"Leroy!"
The man moved from his tucked into himself position and, grumbling, stretched and yawned until he sat. "Oh, great, still with the miserable weather."
"Morning, Sunshine."
He looked around himself and stood. "Nature calls. Sorry."
He disappeared for a while and Emma thought it better to just stay where she was. Nature was calling her too but with her sense of direction totally fried up by this place, she'd probably end up surprising Leroy with his pants down in the middle of something and that was probably more than she could survive.
When Leroy returned a good half an hour later by her estimation, he was carrying some odd leaves in his hand and a scowl in his face.
"I lost the creek."
"You lost what?"
"The creek. I went down to get washed and get some water and I had these so I thought we could make some tea or something but I lost the creek."
"You can't lose a creek, Leroy. It doesn't move about." But as she said it, Emma was hit with the realization of what was different with their bunking arrangement: the fire was gone. Not just as died down, but there was no sign of there ever having been one. No ashes, no burns, no charred wood. She pointed at the place it should have been. "Was I drunk or did we have a fire last night?"
Leroy looked around himself and behind him as if he had been expecting little green men to appear from behind the felled trees and shout surprise while they tied them down and did experiments on them. "What the actual fuck!"
"Yeah" Emma sighed. "My thoughts exactly."
There was no point in looking around. No point whatsoever. "It's like we landed in the twilight zone or something."
"Do you feel watched?" Emma asked feeling only marginally ridiculous. This was Leroy and the Enchanted Forrest (it was, it was) and so, anything was possible.
"Maybe."
"What do you mean maybe?"
"Exactly that. Better get a move on, sister."
It took one look at Leroy to not argue the case. She picked up the ridiculous top hat and started the walk. "Tea sucks anyway, Leroy."
.
.
She never really walked anywhere so she didn't know how long it took her to go somewhere on foot. Back in Storybrooke, she took the bug everywhere- and that meant mostly from home to work which was a whole lot less than a song on the radio. Here, she would have expected a whole day's walk would take them far. Very far.
"We're lost, boss."
"We're not. We just don't know where we are."
"Fancy a stop? I think I hear water."
They found a creek. It was nothing to write home about- presuming that they'd had the post office services handy. It was small and the water was the same color as the murky sky but it had the main thing: water.
They drank greedily and then the hunger set in. They foraged around for fruit or anything else really, though Emma suspected that hunting wasn't even an option. She found some berries and picked as much as she could. It occurred to her, for lack of better recipient to put them in, that the hat might be suitable but ultimately gave up because one, they might go to another world and two, because she didn't want to damage her ride back home.
By the time she got back to yet one more uprooted tree by the creek, Leroy was already back with plums.
"Found plums" Leroy was victorious.
"Found berries" Emma replied.
"They're poisonous." He said on inspecting the booty.
"Fuck."
"Yeah. But you know what else I found?" Leroy tossed her a plum and damned if it wasn't the best thing she'd ever had. Bar nothing.
"Huh?" She mumbled with her mouth full.
Leroy pointed and she followed. A fire- or the remains of a fire. The ash, the kindled wood, the scorch marks on the floor. Just like the previous night.
Emma swallowed the fruit and stood staring at it.
"It's a fire."
"No kidding."
"So there is someone around."
"No."
"What the hell, Leroy."
"It's our fire"
"How do you know?"
Leroy pointed to the ground next to the tree. Regina. Right where Emma had scratched it the night before.
"Fuck."
"You're saying that a lot."
"Stop me when it's not appropriate."
~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~
Regina cried until she was empty and her nose was blocked and her eyes swollen. Her head spun when she dragged herself to her cot. She wanted to close her eyes and sleep away time but sleep never came. So she started the wait. Emma was going to come back. It didn't matter what Snow thought. Emma was okay. There was something on the other side of the hat and it wasn't the end. She would have known. She would have felt it in her heart, if Emma was not okay. So she would wait.
There was nothing domestic, nothing romantic about it. Regina had grown accustomed to Emma being there, always there for her, with her. Silence had bloomed between them like a language. Now the silence was just morose darkness. The torches were dimmed and she had sent Henry home. No sense in having him sleep on the floor. No sense having him with her if any disgruntled citizen of Storybrooke decided to come for her and take justice in their hands. Nova had stayed with her until Regina had asked her to go home. The fairy had been confused for a while, had even attempted to refuse but Regina was still commanding when she needed to be.
There was nothing else to do but lay in bed, feeling so small, so impotent. Without her even noticing, her hand went to her belly and rubbed small, small circles. It helped. It really helped. It helped her believe Emma: if it was not okay, it was not the end. And this was not okay. Not having Emma- even if separated by burning bars- was not okay. Not by any stretch of the imagination.
.
.
She slept, eventually. She woke up to missing Emma like a physical thing, an amputation. She took her diary and wrote on the inside of the hard cover Emma is okay. Because it helped her see it. It helped her believe it. Emma is okay. Then she turned to the writing pages.
Do you ever wonder if we were destined to meet, Emma? Do ever wonder if we are but the stars' tennis balls, tossed to and fro at a whim? For so long I thought I controlled what I did. I fought so hard to be free of my mother, of Leopold, of my fate… Did the unspeakable and for a while, I was free. Or thought that I was.
I shudder at the thought that we might have walked past each other, never knowing what could have been, what we are together; that in an ocean, we are but two drops. I was lucky enough that you got a hold of me and did not let go. For once, I think I prefer fate to free will. One inch to the right, one breath to the left and I would have missed you. I would still be existing, suspended in thin air, never really living. I'm glad it was your fate to destroy my curse.
I'm sorry I let you go. I'm sorry did not hold on any stronger. You are okay. You will come back for me. For us. I suspect there is so much more to come back to now.
Come back to me, Emma. Come back to me.
.
.
Henry and Nova came in with breakfast and they were a distraction. They encouraged her to eat something, and she did, because she would take care of herself for Emma like she expected Emma to take care of herself for her. They sat and talked until it was time for school. Henry protested but Regina was adamant that things remained as normal as possible, stable and balanced. Henry was a little boy and little boys went to school. She clung to that shred of domesticity. She approached the bars and kissed the top of his head and it was a little like it used to be, before he got the book. And it was nice.
Then she sat on her cot and continued waiting for Emma. Nova chatted away and it became the soundtrack to her waiting. Nova was company, an anchor to the world outside, though nothing could be like Emma and her scent of fresh air and sweat that was all hers.
Snow came in by lunch time. Regina was not expecting her but when Snow walked in, she tried not to arm herself against the torrent of recrimination. She felt little right to defense. But recrimination didn't come. Snow opened a basket and handed Regina a stew, warm and fragrant, full of vegetables and not a single bite of fried food in sight. For a moment she thought that Snow had come to repay the favor, to hand her her version of the apple.
Regina took a spoon from Snow's hand and hesitated.
"It's not poisoned." Snow spoke, her expression closed.
It was not trust that made Regina eat. It was the last of her defiance. She ate and the food was pleasantly bland and it did not make her stomach protest. She finished the food in silence. Snow took the pot from her and handed her a basket with fruit and a bottle of water. "It's about time they stop feeding you Granny's food." And without any further explanations, she packed up the basket and prepared to leave. "Do you think that she's okay?" Snow asked, her back to Regina. It was not the question that took Regina by surprise. She would be asking the same question if she'd had anyone to ask it of. It was the mere fact that it was asked. Regina's hand went to her belly out of reflex.
"Yes, she is. I know it in my heart."
"In your heart…"
Regina refused to let it hurt. "Yes. And you know it too, Snow."
.
.
Snow saw Regina's expression close and there was a flicker of regret. She had not meant it as an insult, but she did not correct the perception. But she did notice Regina's hand, careful, nurturing going to her belly, protecting something precious. She noticed and committed it to memory.
.
.
Come back to me, Emma. Come back and put your arms around me and tell me if you feel this: my breasts are fuller, my hips wider, my body warmer. Come back to me and tell me that you feel it too, something radiating off of me, peace and hope. Come back to me, Emma, and tell me that it is entirely too possible that we have conceived a child, that's it's not too late for me.
Come back to me, Emma, and tell me that you believe me.
~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~
Emma stirred and opened her eyes. She could kill for a coffee. She wanted it so badly she could almost taste it. She got her bearings: uprooted trees: check. Overcast sky: check. Unbreathable air: check. Not the same place she had fallen asleep: check.
"Leroy!"
Leroy moved like a little woodlouse, unfurling and untucking his limbs. "Oh, great, still with the miserable weather."
"Morning, Sunshine."
"Nature calls. Sorry." And when he said it, Emma had a sinking feeling. Hadn't they done this before? Hadn't they said these exact words?
Leroy was gone for a while and Emma thought that it might be better not to go anywhere just in case she stumbled upon Leroy answering the call of nature. Leroy returned already telling her that he had lost the creek. The answer was at the tip of her tongue. "Oh fuck!"
Leroy had a handful of leaves in his hand and a scowl on his face.
"Stop it. Stop it Leroy. Stop it right now."
"It's a creek. How far could it have gone?" But Emma pulled him by the sleeve of his shirt and pointed him to where the fire should have been. "Oh fuck." Leroy let out on a huff.
"Yeah." Emma pursed her lips. "That's the word I was looking for."
.
.
So they walked in a different direction, this time along a path. It was hard to say which one. There was no shadow of the sun to guide them and not really any landscape markings but it seemed to her that it was best to walk along the path and that it would certainly take them elsewhere.
They walked all day and when night fell, Emma felt like she had walked half way across the globe. Surely they had to be wherever they were going. She bit into the one of the pears they had picked from an uprooted tree and when Leroy let out a surprised shout she snapped to attention. She really needed to do more of that and less of thinking about Regina and home and coffee. Leroy stood. His feet planted wide apart, looking at the ruin of something. And then he barged in shouting come on and looking fairly excited.
"It's the house. It's our house. I lived here with my brothers," He tacked on when she looked at him blankly and then around her in the darkness of what was little more that a flattened shack. "Your mom lived here with us for a while too." He moved about it as if he'd just stepped out for a little while, lighting up candles and starting a fire in what was left of the fireplace. "How about that tea now?"
"Got anything more substantial?"
He gave her an are you kidding look. "It's been twenty nine years."
"Can I remind you of the trees outside?"
"And we were practically living at the castle, waiting on the curse… Right, help me look."
The came up with a booty of wilted potatoes sprouting roots the size of fingers and some dried game meat. To his credit, Leroy conjured up dinner. It was no burger, fries and shake and it had no taste that she could recognize, but it was probably the best meal Emma had ever had. Either that or she was really, really hungry.
~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~
Emma is okay, Regina wrote everyday on the back of the hardcover of her diary. It was a prayer of sorts, the best she knew how, a wish, a plea to anything, any god willing to hear. The handwriting became smaller as the days passed, more hesitant. The harder it was to believe, the harder she pressed her pen against the cardboard.
She rubbed her belly. The certainty grew every day with each time she wrote on her diary Emma is okay. It filled her with strength and hope. Her belly was still as flat as before. She wished it would grow, just so that she could see, just so that her faith was justified. But it was all about the waiting, for the baby and for Emma.
.
.
Snow spied from the entrance of the cave. She felt the absurd need to know. The dreams were a constant now. Regina sitting in the sunshine and Emma's hand, her daughter's hand, resting on Regina's rounded belly, possessive, protective. So she had to know.
She walked in quietly, minding her steps on the sandy ground and stood behind the last curved wall before the cave, studying Regina, just like when she was a little girl, standing behind doors and curtains, trying to understand the whispers of the servants, their veiled looks. Trying to understand how her position would change. Trying hard not to be jealous of something she did not understand how it could have happened. She'd thought that father was happy with her. That she was enough.
On cue, Regina placed her hand on her belly, as if measuring or reassuring herself. It was something that Snow remembered doing, an unconscious gesture of comfort. She bit back a sob. How?
She breathed deeply and made her way in, taking care to make sufficient noise to announce her arrival. Regina's hand immediately fell to her side. The small smile on her face took longer to change.
Snow pulled the chair to give herself time and then sat facing Regina, trying desperately to find, as she did every day, the little hint of betrayal, the sign that Regina had betrayed Emma in the worst way. She passed the food containers through the bars, the fruit and fresh juice and waited for Regina's discomfort at accepting the food, at eating under her watchful eyes.
And it was also a game of chicken she played with herself: she wanted to talk to Regina in a way that had not been possible for the last forty years. She wanted to apologize for her words, for her behavior. For her jealousy, because she was well aware of how appallingly she had behaved. But she also wanted to ask how could Regina have slept around and betrayed Emma like that, with a baby growing inside her. She wanted to ask why Regina had lied to her back then, why she had pretended to love her. There was just so much but no courage to ask, no courage to go back there. And every day, she stared at Regina, waiting for the courage, the words on the tip of her tongue. And then she would stand and walk out.
"Emma will be okay, Regina." The reassurance was for both of them.
"Yes, she will, Snow."
.
.
I miss your soft breath in the night. It gives such warmth, Emma. You make little noises when you sleep, like you're having conversations. You're argumentative even in your sleep, so strong (I see the set of your jaw during those conversations….) I miss you. I worry. And I want you back. Give up now, Emma. Come back safe. Come back and put your hand on my belly. I have a secret to tell you.
~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~
Emma rolled on her side and opened her eyes. She thought of bacon and eggs and a hearty mug of coffee and tried to get her bearings: uprooted trees: check. Overcast sky: check. Unbreathable air: check. Not the hut they had gone to sleep in: check. And an oak sapling still standing in a backdrop of complete destruction.
"Leroy!" This time she called calmly, there was no great shock. Just weariness.
Leroy opened one at a time and scrunched his nose. "Oh, great, still with the miserable weather."
"Morning, Leroy." She let him get up and do his thing just to see his face when he noticed.
"Nature calls. Sorry."
Leroy was gone for a while and it gave Emma time to do her own thing. She looked around her just to make sure they were back to the spot they had come out of the hat in and the place they had been waking up every day. With the lock picking tool, she carved an Emma was here reminiscent of her school property defacing days. When Leroy returned, she went through the motions with him:
"I lost the creek."
"No, you didn't."
"So how do you explain_" And there she interrupted him and pointed him towards the makeshift campsite without any markings of fire or of a hut for that matter.
Leroy looked confused for a little and then cursed soundly and heartily.
"Let's get going, Leroy."
Before moving, Leroy took a pen knife from his pocket and went to where Emma had carved the bark of the tree and added and so was Leroy.
.
.
Emma hated the feeling that she was being watched. The hairs at the back of her neck were standing on end but no matter how much they walked or what direction, they never saw anyone. It was as if they'd been alone in the world. Just her luck, the last man on earth was Leroy.
She never saw it coming. They had come up to a dilapidated bridge that seemed to be standing out of mere stubbornness when it happened: figures clad in dark animal skins and bits of armor that left a foul smell of putrefaction in the air when they moved aimed at them from under the bridge. Leroy shouted and wielded his axe with abandon, making the shadows give him a wide berth. Emma drew her sword and pointed it forward, the only direction she managed. A sword, though no one had told her, was heavy and nearly impossible to maneuver and it made the muscles in her arms ache agonizingly just trying to keep it upright.
They lunged for her, the foul smelling shadows. The smell announced them and on instinct, Emma dropped the sword with a screw it and reached for the gun. She fired the first shot and had the shadows freeze in shock. When she fired the second time, one of them fell on the floor at her feet, his head blown apart by her close range shot. The others scampered for the underside of the bridge and disappeared from sight in less than a heartbeat.
"What are these things?"
"I'm no expert, but I'm thinking trolls."
Emma looked at the ruin of the body on the ground. It shocked her. It shocked her violently. Naturally, the only thing to do was be flippant about it. "They sure bleed red."
"Like all of us, sister. You're hurt."
"Huh?" Leroy pointed at a tear the size of Texas on her side, ripping through her jacket and the sweater and skin. It hurt. It hurt like a bitch. "It's just a scratch." 'Cause God help her if it was more in this place. She took the hat from the floor and dusted it. She put her hand over the cut and held it closed until it stopped hurting on her side and the only thing hurting was her conscience.
So much blood.
.
.
She was not going anywhere fast. The blood was sipping through her fingers, spreading up on her sweater and down on her jeans. When the shaking started, she sat by the road side and thought that she might be in trouble. There was just too much blood and not a single hospital in sight. Leroy for his part did the best he could. He cleared a patch on the ground and lined it with soft leaves, tied a few branches in a makeshift roof for them. But when he persuaded her to let him have a look at the wound, she could see it in his face how bad it really was. He washed it and ripped his undershirt for an impromptu bandage for all the good it would do. He had been wearing that under shirt for the last however many days, but it was the patch up job possible in the middle of a forest with, Emma suspected, a warped sense of time.
By the time night fell, Emma was running a fever and the pain had reached a teeth snapping level. Leroy gave her water from his grubby bottle as the only medicine available.
She thought, for a moment of lucidity, that she was going to die here and that no one would ever take Regina from that hellhole she was in. She felt herself losing consciousness by increments, with the loss of control of her limbs first, the lack of feeling in each of her fingers and her vision blurring. Her last thought was only half formed and it was of Regina's beautiful face scowling at her.
.
.
Emma rolled on her side and opened her eyes. For a moment, she thought she smelled fresh pastries and briefly considered that it might just be worth it to get up for a donut and coffee combo down at Granny's. And then the hard floor under her reminded her sharply of where she was. Uprooted trees: check. Overcast sky: check. Unbreathable air: check. Not dead and no wound on her side: check. Oak sapling standing tall was a check too.
"Leroy!"
Leroy rolled onto his belly and opened his eyes. "Oh, great, still with the miserable weather."
"Morning, Leroy." She let him get up and do his thing and mentally checked her list: the call of nature, the herbs, the creek.
"Nature calls. Sorry."
While Leroy was gone, she took a minute to inspect her side. Nothing, not even a scar. For a second, she entertained the thought that it might have been a bad dream, one of those really vivid ones. Or maybe, she was losing her mind. She wasn't sure how long she would be able to do this carbon copy waking up with Leroy routine before she lost it altogether. Her fingers found the bark where she had carved Emma was here and for some reason, she wanted to cry at the sight of it. But then Leroy returned and it was back to paint by numbers:
"I lost the creek."
"No you didn't."
"What do you mean?" She pointed towards the makeshift campsite without any markings of fire or roof or blood. She raised her sweater to show him her side, not even a scratch on it. When Leroy's eyes did not pop out of his face, she had a moment of clear certainty that she had hallucinated the whole thing. But then the confusion cleared and he grabbed her jacket and turned it in his hand and that calmed her down a little. No, she was not losing her ever loving mind.
Leroy looked at the tree and saw Emma was here but there was nothing about and so was Leroy. "Boss…" She noticed it then.
"Do it again, Leroy."
.
.
It was like Groundhog Day but without the snow and the romance. Leroy farted in his sleep and his breathing sounded a lot like a rusty lawnmower. The trolls attacked again the following day. It may have been the smell of the apples they had found or may simply have been they had crossed some territorial line or something, but they attacked. And even though Leroy had taken to the axe as a weapon, there were still too many with a vested interested in getting them eliminated from the landscape. Emma ended up with a club firmly across her ribs that made a few of them crack.
It did not matter anyway. When they woke up, Leroy was still looking for the creek he'd lost and carrying tea herbs in his hands. His and so was Leroy was still missing. Emma told him to do it again. She told him to do it again every day.
And then it didn't matter so much anymore. She didn't mind climbing up a tree trying to get fruit because even when she fell and her bones broke, the next day, she was fine and dandy, ready to rinse and repeat.
"Careful sister, death has no come back that we know of." Leroy told her one evening as he was trying to settle her into a position she could actually sleep in with a broken arm.
Anger boiled in her stomach and it churned out acid. She had a mission. She wasn't here on a holiday. Starting over each day was a waste of time. Time that Regina was wasting away in that hole.
"Leroy? What are we doing wrong?"
Leroy shrugged. "Sleep, sister. Sleep."
In the morning, there it was again, mocking her: Emma was here.
~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~
I dreamt you were hurt. There was so much blood, Emma. Please come back. Enough now. Come back. Our baby is showing Emma. It's rounding in my belly, and I can't help but wanting you here. I'm so scared you'll take one look at me and walk away. I can't explain it: we made a baby together. Our baby.
Come back to me, Emma. Come back safe.
.
.
Regina accepted the food containers from Snow and sat on the cot with a sigh. She didn't quite know how to word it, how thankful she was for the nutritious, not fried, not smelly food that did not make her stomach lose its contents at the first whiff. Even for the company. Snow came and sat with her and it was all manners of uncomfortable because there was so much between them, but the fact that she came and that before she left, she always repeated Emma is going to be okay, Regina, helped. It helped so much. Nova and Ruby came by and did little things for her, like sit and talk, bring books and little treats; David came and checked on her, brought her news from outside; Henry came and hugged her and told her he missed Emma and he would do his homework in a small table he had dragged from her garage to the mine. She inspected his work and if he had washed behind his ears. But it was Snow, with her silence, that Regina craved the most. Together they missed Emma in a way that was theirs alone, missing her and fearing for her to the extent of foreseeing disaster but keeping hope alive. It was as if they spoke a language different from everybody else's and the only person that understood, that spoke the same language was the other.
.
.
Regina had taken to sitting on the cot where it was darker. The clothes she wore were dark too, of a blackness that made her blend with the background. If there was something to see, Snow couldn't fathom it, but that was okay. She had Regina. She had Regina all to herself. She alternated guilt over that unwelcome thought with the unexpected companionship. Regina understood. She understood her mood swings, her hurt at Emma's words. She understood the loss in a way that no one else did, without judgment or advice. As if, for the first time in their lives, they'd been speaking the same language.
One day, Regina had asked her, without guile or sarcasm that she could detect, "Whyare you being nice to me?"
"Emma asked me to." Snow blurted out the answer, but it was too quick. There was more to it. Yes, Emma had asked, but this was Regina, so nothing would ever be easy or simple. There was the guilt and the residual love of the little girl she'd been; there was the woman that she understood better now, even if she still didn't know how to feel about it, the monster, the victim, but mostly, there was the person that waited with her.
"Emma is going to be okay, Regina."
"Yes, she will, Snow."
"Just don't break my daughter's heart."
.
.
Snow's footsteps faded down the corridor of the mine and Regina relaxed her stance. The swell of her belly became visible again, though only to her eyes.
If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?
The loose clothes covered her form and gave her a strange sense of security. She still dreamt of the birth, of the pain and the joy of it; of Snow standing above her while she delivered the baby. She still dreamt of Snow taking her baby wrapped up in a cloth and disappearing into thin air. Of the accusation of betraying Emma. Of Emma's absence; of Emma not believing her.
She lit a candle to read (David's gift, along with a table he had painstakingly assembled on her side of the bars like you do a boat inside a bottle) but the story was too thin. Snow's daily visits unsettled her. Emma was okay, she repeated to herself because it calmed her, as much as the flutter she, sometimes, thought she felt inside her. But she wondered why she had not told Emma. It all had been too fast, too rushed. And yet, there would have been time for three or four little words that could have changed Emma's decision.
What if Emma truly did not believe her? She had gone to another world at great peril. If she had known, she could have done otherwise. She could be safe back home. Even if Regina would now be alone, really and truly.
Why would Emma even believe her? She wouldn't. Probably. Emma was of this world, a world without magic and she was Evil Queen. Why should she believe that together they had created life, something entirely too impossible. Why would Emma believe that the Evil Queen had done something god in her life?
What if she broke Emma's heart? How could she live with herself then?
.
.
The first moment was of panic: when she rubbed her belly, there was nothing. The soft swell of it was gone, no trace left. She'd had this before. Back then. One day she had a baby, joy and hope, the next, there was only emptiness. But then she heard the giggle, like crystal breaking. She walked in search of that sound, picking up pieces of it, like shards of happiness, following the happy giggle.
She found the little girl sitting on the floor, cross legged Buddha style. "You came for tea!" And she giggled. Regina nodded. Happiness tasted like this. The little blond head bobbed in the darkness as the giggles became seriousness."Emma is alright, you know? She's going to be okay."
"How do you know, sweetheart?"
"I know because she promised you that if it's not okay, it's not over. And Emma always keeps her promises. And you're just going to have to get used to that."
Regina nodded and the little sunshine girl handed her a cup of make believe tea.
"Milk?"
~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~
Emma was here.
Emma sighed. Finding the dwarves' mines was like pushing a boulder up a hill only to lose grip of it at the summit and be flattened down by the boulder on its way down. And then start again. No matter where they went to sleep, they always woke up here. Leroy would answer the call of nature, come back complaining about losing the creek and with tea herbs in his hand. "Leroy, don't you find it strange that we always come back here every morning?"
"Here?"
"Yeah!" But the question seemed to confuse Leroy. She pointed at the tree bark clear of his markings. "I wrote that a while ago."
"How long? And why is mine not there?"
"I don't know. Write it again, Leroy."
"So," Leroy pocketed the penknife. "Are we going?"
"Where to?"
"Dunno. But we're always going somewhere."
Yeah, they were always going and never reaching.
"I don't wanna go anywhere today, Leroy."
Leroy shrugged and he sat. "Okay. Let's get something to eat then. I'm hungry."
.
.
Emma let him go. She did not want to budge. She wanted to lay down on the floor and run her fingers over the words Emma was here and understand why it did not say Emma is here instead because she hadn't been able to leave yet. She slept and had visions of herself covered in moss like a stone that hadn't rolled in a while. Rooted to this place that she knew nothing about.
She got Leroy's penknife and unstitched the lining on her jacket. She copied the words Emma was here with the lock picking pin and let them sink in. When she slept, she dreamt of a Regina telling her in no uncertain terms to do her paperwork. That paperwork made the world go around.
When she woke up, she scribbled Regina while Leroy went about his morning routine of answering the call of nature and losing the creek. She put on her jacket. Suddenly it was important to get up and go. Leroy followed. Leroy always followed. That afternoon, they found a castle. It took Leroy a while until he shouted in glee "It's Snow's castle. You were born here, sister. You were born here."
She marked reference points on the back of her jacket under the lining and the last one was a castle crudely drawn.
Calling it a castle was a stretch. It was little more than a ruin, but that night, Leroy spoke about getting to the mine and grabbing the diamonds and getting the hell out of dodge and back home and for a while, Leroy had all his memories intact. That night, when she slept on the floor of a pretty nursery (if you minused the debris of the roof and broken furniture and dust), she dreamt of Regina. She dreamt of Regina and Henry and, for the first in a very long time, her head did not feel like it was cushioned with cotton wool.
She dreamt of her mother and father and felt loved.
.
.
When they woke up the next morning at their usual campsite, Emma knew that, even if they were on a wash and repeat she would find a way. She had never given up before and this was not the time to start.
~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~
There were good days when Regina knew it in her heart that Emma was okay and her hand was light on the hardcover of her diary when she wrote Emma is okay and there were days when it was so hard to keep believing, because it had been so long and her hand was heavy when she wrote it. Some days were so bad with the weight of the absence that the pen scratched through the paper down almost to the leather.
There were flutters inside her. Not really kicking. She'd heard about the kicking, but this was so soft, she couldn't even be sure it was happening. Flutters, like feathers in the wind. Her clothes would not fit her. She felt ridiculously happy for having clothes that would not fit. And still, when Snow came in, she hid in the shadows of the cave, wondering, if Snow ever had half a mind to light up the torches, how she would explain her expanding belly. There was a feeling of time ticking by. The moment approached when she would meet her baby and she couldn't wait. She couldn't wait to see him or her. Definitely her. But what would happen then? Her baby would be locked in the cave with her, leaving the life of a prisoner, never knowing the light of the sun or the taste of the rain or Emma's arms closed around her.
Her breath hitched and there was a moment, a terrible moment of panic where she didn't know what to do except scream and cry that Emma hurry up, that Emma come back and take the baby away because a damned hole in the ground was no place for a child.
What if Snow was the one that took her baby? Snow would do it. She could do it. She had lost Emma because of her. Twice. She hadn't seen Emma grow up and become the woman she was, so Snow would take her baby away from her. Just like in the dream. Tears slid down her face, copious, abundant: she would not get to see her baby grow up. Maybe they would bring her here some time.
Or maybe they wouldn't care. If they didn't believe the baby was Emma's what would they do with the Evil Queen's child? Maybe they'd send it away from Storybrooke like she had tried to do to Hansel and Gretel. Her baby would grow up alone like Emma had.
She got up and paced her cell, unable to sit still. She told herself that it was just the hormones. That it was normal to feel terrified but her heart wouldn't settle.
If it's not okay, it's not the end.
And then Snow came in with food.
.
.
They were not maternity clothes. Snow hadn't dared acting on a ludicrous dream. But they were dark and wide and would fit Regina's slight frame with space for a growing bump. She almost patted herself on back for her cunning. But when she walked into the cave with the food and the bundle of clothes, she could feel anguish in the air, something palpable and dense and all she wanted to do was to dispel it, to tell Regina that it would be okay, that everything would be okay. It was an instinct.
She set the containers of food on Henry's homework table and waited for Regina to sit. Her steps were quick and there was no wobble or strange gait. If Regina was indeed pregnant, she was carrying her baby high.
"Regina?" For once, she let the concern filter through her voice. "What's wrong?"
Regina sat on the cot, away from the light and stilled her fidgeting. "Nothing, dear. Nothing at all."
"Are you worried? Did you…?" Suddenly it occurred to her that Regina might have a connection to Emma, something akin to what she had with David, something that blew cold air at the back of her neck when something was not right with him. A love sense, she liked to think of it. What if Regina had something like that with Emma and she knew something? "Is Emma…?"
It was too much for Regina then and Snow knew it when she heard the sob that the woman tried to bite back in her throat.
"Emma is okay, Snow. Emma is okay."
"Okay. Alright… So are you okay? Did something… anyone…?" Oh, what a blubbering idiot, Snow thought of herself and would have kicked herself if possible. They were not friends. Would never be. "Do you need anything? Here, I brought you these." And she handed her the clothes through the bars. Not that Regina would get up to take them. Lately, she did not approach the bars at all. Hiding.
"Snow… I didn't… with Emma… I know that I don't love very well… Henry can tell you that but I never…" The words dried out in her throat.
"You never what, Regina? Meant to hurt her?"
"No, I didn't. She had my heart in her hand, Snow. I didn't choose to… feel this. But she had my heart in her hand and she held me through it… When someone knows the worst of you, when they see you at your worst and still they hold you through it… She held me, Snow and she didn't let go. I can't not…"
"Love her…" Snow felt more than saw Regina nodding.
"You tried, Snow, with me… you tried…"
"But I always let go, didn't I?" Snow swore she heard tears reply. "I'm sorry I did."
And then she got up and left because sometimes, Snow knew, she was still just the spoiled little princess her father raised no matter how good his intentions had been or how much she needed to live up to her mother's example.
She left knowing that Regina had been about to say something else. Knowing that Regina needed her.
.
.
Emma, where are you? The baby is moving. Like butterfly wings, barely enough for me to feel it. Did Henry move like this? I think it's a girl. I call her Hope when I talk to her because she is part of you and you are my hope. We can change it. It's okay. I gave Henry his name so you give this baby a name. Just come home now.
~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~
Emma woke up and waited for Leroy. Emma was here glared at her from the tree bark. She waited for Leroy, knowing after all this time that he would be up soon enough and that he would go out to pee and come back moaning about the creek and it was all too damned much. But Regina was waiting for her. Regina was in that hole and she had to find the mine to find the diamonds to crush them into power to get Regina out. So, no matter how much she wanted to scream and shout – at Leroy, at the forest, at the defiant oak sapling- at Regina herself for cursing a whole world- Emma bit her tongue and waited patiently to be able to start the day.
Again they set off in what Emma believed to be the same direction of the day before plus a few degrees to the right and her fingers crossed for god measure though she was done believing that luck had anything to do with it.
That late afternoon, they came across a pretty cottage in the middle of the woods with boarded up windows and a chicken coop that still had fresh eggs though the chickens seemed to have all disappeared.
"Someone must live here." Yeah, that again, Emma thought. So, without a word, she picked up the few eggs left behind and carried them to the kitchen that did not seem to have a speck of dust on it. "What do you think, boss?" There was hope in Leroy's eyes.
"Unlikely, Leroy. We haven't seen a soul since we came to this land. 'Cept for the trolls..."
"We haven't? How long ago_" But he forgot about the question midway through it. She wished that, for once, he would just remember, that she would not be the only one missing it, missing home. She wanted to talk to him. She wanted someone to reassure her but whenever they spoke about home, Leroy's attention would dwindle and he would talk about wings. Only wings. Not even the whole of Nova.
She made omelets that night. Good, honest to god omelets. There was even some bread that was not entirely moldy.
~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~
Henry bustled in with breakfast and Regina could feel the wind and cold rain of February on his hair. She breathed him in. She loved his smell more than any other.
"Mom!" He said in that exasperated tone Regina was sure was going to be a part of his teen age years, maybe even beyond. "Were you sniffing me?"
"I might have…" Regina said trying to push away at anguish and depression with a smile. It was like trying to empty a lake with a glass of water, but Henry was there, hair standing up at points because of the wind and because David and Snow let him run riot around them and that merited the effort. She smoothed it down with her hand but to no avail. "Do you mind?"
Henry stepped back, measured her and sighed. "No. Bad day again?" She tried. She tried hard not to let her moods show, especially on the bad days when she missed Emma more than air, or the days she believed that Emma would not come back. Or when she thought that the baby might be stuck in here with her but that the alternative would break her more than anything else. Bad days when she counted how many times she had written, once a day, Emma is okay on the back of her diary. She tried. "You know that she'll come back, right?" And his expression was so serious, his voice so full of certainty it hurt. "She's coming back any time now and she'll get you out of here, so don't worry. We just need to wait a little longer. You'll see, mom. Any time now."
"Why, because she's the savior?"
"No. Because she never gave up and her life wasn't easy. She's not going to give up now. That's why it's taking her so long. Besides, she has a lot to come back for. You, me, the baby."
"Henry…" Regina's legs failed her. No one knew. The baby was her secret. Hers and Emma's. "How do you…"
"How do I know about the baby? Come on, mom… I know. What did Emma say?"
"I didn't… She doesn't know."
"Is that why you're worried? Because two girls can't, you know… make babies like that?" Oh, Henry… "Do you think that she's not going to believe you?"
"Why would she, Henry?" Her hand cupped her belly protectively.
Henry moved closer to the bars. "May I?" Regina assented silently and when he placed his hand gently on her, she covered it with her own. "Mom, she travelled through a hat to two different worlds, put your heart back without surgery, her parents are Snow White and Prince Charming and her best friend is a werewolf. Do you really believe that making a baby with you is going to even be strange?"
"Henry, you are too young to be this old." Henry gave her a megawatt smile.
"Yeah, I'm wise like that. Hey, baby," He lowered his tone of voice and spoke closer to her belly, "We both know that Emma is on her way back, right?"
Coincidence. It had to be a coincidence, because the baby kicked as if it had been replying to Henry.
.
.
All in all, Regina did hide it pretty well. No one would even begin to suspect: Ruby and Kathryn, Mrs. Cooke and Granny, they all stopped by. Ruby and Nova had been upfront about it, but the others had always found a way to justify their presence. Regina could not quite understand their wish or need to come. But they stopped by with little kindnesses: a newspaper, a slice of cake. Sometimes, questions about back then. And she stuck to the dark wall, hiding.
And then Granny came in one day with her knitting needles sticking out of her bag and handed her a little package with a silent nod of her head. Regina opened it from the safety of her dark wall. Inside, a pair or the tiniest white baby booties shone in the darkness.
Regina looked at Granny, unable to say or do anything at all. "I'm and old bird, my dear. I know these things. You hid it pretty well, I have to say. But my eyes are not the only thing I see with."
"Mrs. Lucas, I…"
"Just call me Granny, for heaven sakes, I'll call you Regina and let's be done with the awkward. And you don't need to worry because I actually know how to keep a secret. Though you'll need help. Women have done this since we first walked the earth but I don't know of a single one that would want to go through that moment alone."
"Emma will be here." There was more certainty in her voice than in her heart.
"Of course she will." Granny indulged. "But I'm sure Snow will be here for you as well. You just need to say the word."
And all that Regina could think was No. Not Snow. Because Snow would swaddle her baby and take her away. "Not Snow. She can't know. Please, Granny."
"Oh, dear! Regina, she knows. I've seen her looking at you. The food she brings, the clothes… Did you know she placed guards outside with orders to fire if anyone- and by anyone we mean George and his cohorts – try to come in here? I told you, my eyes aren't the only thing I see with."
Regina felt the whole world collapse under her. Snow knew. And her time was coming.
.
.
My beloved Hope
Your mother Emma has a baby blanket she carries in the bottom of a box wherever she goes. For all of her life, that was all she ever had of her parents. And that was my fault. However sorry I am, it will never give her back the love she could have had from them.
It's not long now until I see you. I can't wait to meet you. It's going to happen both too soon and not soon enough. I've been dreaming about you and I think you look just like Emma. If I'm not around to tell you, that means that you are the fairest of them all. I wanted you to have something of me- from me- like Emma has her blanket. There isn't much I can do where I am now, but I can give you the certainty that you are loved, Hope. As you flutter inside me, I have great expectations for you. I hope you get Emma's eyes. That way, you will look at the worst people and see in them the best they can be. Some people need that more than air. I did. So many dragons are just princesses waiting for someone who can see their true form.
I hope you get her heart. Emma has the best kind of heart- the kind that has been through hell and came out pure and true. But I hope you get from me the resilience, the stubbornness. That way, if it happens, if someone breaks your heart, you'll keep going. You know, little one, there is always a second chance to love. Hold that thought in your heart if there are days when it seems that all is lost.
She is indomitable. (Yes, I tried to break her, in the beginning and failed.) So I hope you have her spirit. If you do, there is nothing you can't conquer.
I want you to know how much I love her, how thankful I am that she got into that ugly little car and drove Henry all the way back to me. Yes, she broke the curse. Yes, I am here, in a place with no hope. But I have you (for a little while at least). I have her and Henry (your big brother is looking forward to teaching you all his big boy tricks) and sometimes, blessings have to break through all your windowpanes to get to where you're hiding, scared, under your bed.
And if something happens that takes you away from me, know that I have loved you from the first moment, from the very first second I closed my eyes and slept in your mother's arms the night we conceived you. Know that I did not give you up willingly.
With love
Mom
~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~SQ~
Each morning, the jacket had a few more markings under the lining. More scribbling, more drawings, more broken hopes.
Not long, now Emma pep talked herself because no one else could do it. Not long now. The jacket seemed to be covered with markings, the drawings almost a solid blur now. Not long now. Where else could they to go? They walked as far as they could in a day. They couldn't go any further without being sent back by sleep. They had to find the mine. There wasn't much they hadn't gone to. It had to be close.
Because if it wasn't, then what the hell was she doing here. Looking at that map of failure, she could only begin to count the time. Days had become weeks and weeks had become months and she couldn't even say how long. Only how bad. She held the hat in her hands and thought that she wanted home. She wanted home and that was Regina. And that was all there was to it.
And then, one more morning, just as devoid of hope as all the others, they stumbled upon the dwarf mines. As she fell to her knees, she thanked not god, but the law of probabilities. They had walked far too much, waked down so many different paths that one of them had to be it.
Leroy found a torch only half burned at the entrance of the mine and lit it. "Funny how a book of matches I use every day does not run out, huh?" He had moments like that. Moments when he knew that he was missing something.
She couldn't tell who she pitied the most: herself for being the one that knew they were stuck in time or Leroy, for forgetting every day as it passed.
The torch illuminated the path ahead of them as they descended deep into the mine. Leroy seemed to know exactly where he was going as if he had only just been there, as if 29 years had not passed and that was a comforting thought. Every once in a while, he scratched his axe against the solid rock wall, as if he relished the sound. She could see his shoulders tensing and the muscles bunching up under his shirt, gearing for the work, for a battle of sorts.
In the darkness of the cave, his axe glimmered.
It was the only thing that did.
It was like a bubble deep down in the earth and the air was all that you expected of it- musty and old, time-riddled and scented with decay. Leroy let his axe drop from his hand and it hit the rock with a metallic clatter that echoed through the chambers of the mine. For a moment, she had the luxury of not knowing. She had never been to a mine; she had barely even seen a diamond, let alone magic diamonds. But then she looked at Leroy looking at the cave.
She picked up the axe. "Come on, Leroy, let's do this and go home." But Leroy took it from her. Her hand went to the hilt of the sword at her waist because, even though she loved Leroy like most people love a crazy uncle or a forgetful grandpa, she would not hesitate to run him through if he dared stand between her and the diamonds, because somewhere in her, she was and would ever be Emma the street rat with no loyalty but to her next meal.
Leroy shook his head, the expression pure dejection. She pulled on the axe because if she refused to see it, then maybe it would not be true, but he held the axe with one hand and with the other he touched what had been a diamond.
It crumbled into fine dust in his fingers, not even a token resistance, just grey ash, like that of a cigarette left abandoned in the ashtray.
She took the axe from his hand and hit at the ground and at the walls. It was just the surface. Underneath, they were what they should be. They just needed to mine them. Why on earth had she brought a dwarf with her anyway. And what did the diamonds even look like? She lifted the axe and rammed it against unyielding rock and then again and again.
Leroy let her exhaust herself because he knew Emma needed this time where she could still believe there was a chance, that it had not all gone to hell in a hand basket.
It took longer than he imagined. Emma had gone into other caves and tried digging through corridors and wells. She had worked the axe until the blisters in her hands broke and her small wrists were swollen by the weight of the axe against the immovable rock.
And then she fell on her knees on the floor.
He thought that maybe, if she cried, though he had no clue what to do about tears, at least she could begin to feel better. But Emma just looked around, her bloodied fingers buried in the moldy dust of the diamonds.
"What happened here, Leroy?"
She was not really looking for a reply. Her eyes were glazed over and half dead, as quiet as her voice. Leroy provided it just the same because he needed it to make sense. "The magic is gone. Dead. Everything is dead. Here and outside. Just rotting and wasting away."
There was a sob somewhere in Emma's throat but it never surfaced. She just worked it down like a pro. She grabbed great, big handfuls of dust only to see it slipping away, dead grey, through her fingers. She stuffed it in her pockets, knowing it as useless but doing it just the same.
"Princess…" Leroy started and he had hoped to maybe give her some hope or at least talk some sense into her. But he would do the same. He too would grab onto the last hair of hope.
When she had her pockets full of dust, he took her arm and pulled her outside. "Let's go home now."
Her throat burned, scorched by despair. How would she tell Regina she had failed? That there was nothing else left. Nothing at all. It burned, her throat and clamped down on her breath, making breathing an arduous process, exhausting.
She dropped to her knees, outside, unable to stand. She was done with this place. She wanted to go home. She wanted Regina.
"It's about time we go back home, Leroy"
"Sure, sister."
She put the hat on the floor and made it spin. Nothing happened. She tried again. She concentrated and wished and crossed her fingers and prayed.
It did not work. She put her hands in her pockets and felt the dust. Only the dead dust.
She scream bubbled up again in her throat but, but she held it together.
Instead, she kicked at the hat with all her fury and all her resentment against life and all her hate and heartache. And the impulse her kick gave the hat, made it spin and spin until all there was a vortex that pulled at her.
Her last thought was finally home.