Chapter Thirty-Four

The music was pouring down the stairwell again. Regina peered up through the slots of the banister from the ground floor, her right hand resting on the vibrating railing. Her left was clutching hold of a squashed bag from Granny's, its contents now lukewarm as a result of it taking her nearly an hour to force herself to get out of the car that she had parked just outside of the building. Her Mercedes would smell of cheap grilled cheese for a week.

She sucked in a breath and forced herself to lift a foot onto the first step.

She found herself wondering for a moment if any other people could possibly live in that building: the gravelly sound of a harsh bassline was making the wooden floorboards beneath her feet pulse and vibrate, and already her temples were starting to throb. The music was angry and deafening. Anyone else in that apartment block would surely have tinnitus by now.

She realised after a moment that she was stood directly in front of Mary Margaret's door with her fist raised. She thought for a moment that she saw a shadow pass beneath it.

Before the metallic taste in her mouth could get any worse, she reached out and rapped her fist against the peeling paintwork.

The sound of approaching footsteps was almost completely muffled by the roaring music, and yet Regina heard them anyway. Her throat seemed to tighten. She clutched the already-squished grilled cheese more tightly in her hand and waited, her toes curling uncomfortably inside of tight leather heels.

Emma opened the door with eyes that said nothing. Then she rolled them, and she forced the door shut again.

Regina leapt forwards and wedged herself between the door and its frame, bracing against Emma's efforts to push her out. The sharp edge of wood bit into her shoulder and she gritted her teeth against the pain, but she didn't cry out. She forced her foot into the lower half of the space and waited for Emma to stop pushing.

She could smell the alcohol, and she could taste it on the angry air that surrounded Emma's wild blonde hair. It made her eyes sting.

'For God's sake, Regina. Not now,' Emma hissed, shoving the weight of her body against the door once more.

'When then?' Regina asked. 'You're ignoring my calls. You're never in your office when I stop by and, yes, I did see you the other day in Granny's when you ducked behind the counter as soon as I walked through the door.'

'Maybe I just don't want to see you?' Emma snapped, pushing her face closer to Regina's. The smell of whisky was stronger. Her skin was pale but her eyes were pink, and everything about her was out of control. Regina longed to shrink back, but she forced herself to stay where she was, her shoulder being crushed between the door and its frame and her heart beating from somewhere deep down inside of her stomach. 'Ever think about that, Your Majesty?'

Regina flinched. She suddenly felt cold.

Emma gave the door one hard, final shove, her face resolute. But instead of allowing herself to be forced back onto the landing, Regina braced herself and pushed right back. Emma stumbled backwards into the apartment and watched as Regina stormed past her.

'Jesus, Regina,' she snapped, kicking the door shut. 'Get out!'

Regina immediately found her way over to the stereo that was sat on top of the kitchen counter and slammed her fist down onto the power button. Her own breathing sounded a lot less calm the moment that silence had fallen through the apartment.

She turned back to look at Emma, who had reached over to the nearest table and picked up the open bottle of whisky that she had placed there before she had opened the door. She threw her head back and let the liquid run down her throat like it was water.

'We have to talk about this,' Regina said, dropping the soggy takeout bag on the counter. 'I know you don't want to. I don't want to. But I have to explain this, Emma, and I have to try and get you to stop hating me.'

'Y'know, I don't think you do,' Emma said flatly. 'I don't want to hear it. Any of it. So you can go now. Thanks for stopping by.'

'Emma.'

'I could call the cops, you know,' Emma said, surprisingly calmly. For a moment her body swayed and she almost lurched into the doorframe. 'You do realise that you're a serial killer, right? I could have you put away for life.'

Regina narrowed her eyes. 'If you called the police… isn't that you?'

Rolling her eyes, Emma took a staggering step into the apartment with the bottle pressed to her lips.

'Fine then,' she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. 'I could arrest you myself. Right now.'

Regina just looked at her for a moment. She took in the greyness of her skin and the dark circles that had somehow reappeared beneath her eyes without her noticing. She watched her swaying on the spot with dark spots of liquor dotting her shirt, and she nodded.

'Okay,' she said, holding out her wrists. 'Go ahead.'

'What?'

'If that will make you feel better, go ahead,' Regina shrugged. 'Arrest me. At least then we can spend all day together in your office and you won't have a choice but to listen to me.'

Emma narrowed her eyes, considering the pathetically unconcerned look on Regina's face and the way that her outstretched hands didn't even shake.

'You're insane,' she hissed, staggering past her and into the kitchen. Regina turned to watch her, sighing.

'Very much so,' she said quietly, her eyes following Emma's jerking motions as she stumbled across to the nearest cabinet. 'Because the woman I love isn't speaking to me. And people do really crazy things when their hearts are breaking.'

Emma turned back to look at her, her eyes narrowing.

'…are you quoting Hercules?'

A growl of frustration ripped from Regina's throat.

'No, you fool, I am not quoting Hercules.'

'Good. Because he probably works down at the gym or something, right?' Emma said, turning back to the open cabinet. 'Wouldn't want him to come up here and sue you for copyright.'

'Emma,' Regina groaned, sliding herself onto her usual stool and knotting her fingers together in her lap. Emma was ignoring her, continuing to open and shut cabinets with her back turned and her tangled, unwashed curls only barely covering her fiercely tensed shoulders. It took Regina longer than it should have to realise that she had finished her bottle of whisky and was looking for a second one. 'Will you stop this?'

'Stop what?' Emma snapped, reaching to the back of a cabinet for a bottle filled with clear liquid. The back of her grasping fingers bumped against the side of a jar, unopened and filled with thick pasta sauce, and abruptly knocked it to the floor. Regina winced at the crash; at the sudden spread of red that layered itself across the floorboards. Emma didn't seem to notice, however. She didn't even glance down at it. Instead she continued, 'Stop actually calling you out on your bullshit for the first time since we got together?'

'There hasn't been any bullshit since we got together,' Regina snapped.

Emma suddenly turned to look at her, her eyes flashing.

'Wrong, Madame Mayor,' she hissed, gesturing towards her with the vodka bottle. 'Wrong. For weeks you've been pulling away. Acting distant and acting miserable and acting like I was the one who was making you unhappy. I loved you, Regina – do you have any idea how hard any of that was? To see you flinching when I came near you but not having you even telling me why? I thought that I disgusted you. I thought… I thought that you'd stopped loving me, and that you were just trying to get out of this without having the balls to actually say it.'

Regina felt her face collapse as she whimpered, 'Emma…'

'But as it turns out, I couldn't have been more wrong,' Emma continued, reaching up to slam the cabinet door shut. It rebounded against the wall and another jar toppled out, bouncing almost comically off of the counter before it too shattered across the floor. 'You do love me. You love me enough to tell me that you're an actual sociopathic murderer and, hey, because I love you too I'm meant to just accept that. Because I guess I'm supposed to love you flaws and all.'

Swallowing against the sharp lump that was digging into the base of her throat, Regina repeated the only word that she could think of. 'Emma…'

'Well, guess what, Regina?!' Emma suddenly yelled, taking a step towards her through the mess of sauce on the floor. She was barefoot, and Regina realised with a flinch of pain that there was suddenly red smeared across the floorboards that hadn't come from inside a jar. 'This isn't a flaw. This isn't some silly little mistake that you made. This is a whole other fucking life that you hid from me and then tried to make me feel badly about – and now that you've told me about it, you're sat there acting like I'm the unreasonable one for feeling sick by being near you and for not trusting those hands anymore now that I know that they've been inside other people's chests.'

Regina found herself sat perfectly still, her nails carving grooves into the palms of her hands. She felt inexplicably cold.

Emma stood looking at her for a moment, her shoulders heaving up and down. The words that she had shouted across the apartment still seemed to bounce off of the crumbling walls and after a moment she shook her head to herself, trying to get rid of them. She raised the bottle of vodka to her lips and swigged at it without wincing, her teary eyes fluttering closed.

Regina bit her lip, watching as Emma hefted her body up onto the kitchen counter and let her bloody feet dangle aimlessly beneath her.

'So,' Emma muttered after a moment, taking another sip of her drink. 'Are you going to tell me all about the Evil Queen now?'

Keeping her eyes on the bottle in her hand, Regina swallowed. 'Not while you're drinking vodka like it's water, no.'

Emma raised an eyebrow, taking another drink like a child who was pointedly stuffing candy into her mouth even though she knew it was going to make her sick.

'Then why are you here?' she asked in a voice that was throaty from the alcohol. 'I thought you wanted to 'talk'?'

Straightening her spine slightly, Regina set her lips in a firm, straight line.

'I want to talk to Emma,' she said, shaking her head. 'This is… you're… You're someone else. You can't understand me.'

'I don't think that I can understand you anyway, Your Majesty,' Emma snorted, leaning back and promptly knocking her head on the nearest cabinet. 'So try me.'

'Emma,' Regina pleaded, her voice small. 'Please.'

'Please what?' Emma snapped, slipping back down to the floor as she angrily rubbed a hand over the throbbing base of her skull. 'Stop drinking? Stop crying? I am allowed to find this difficult, Regina.'

'Of course you are,' Regina said, finally unclenching her fists. 'It's just—'

'What?' Emma interrupted, her eyes flashing. 'What? Tell me what I'm doing wrong – am I doing this too loudly? Am I messing up your perfect little plan for how long it should take me to forgive you and how quickly things should go back to normal? Tell me, Regina, did you write out a timetable for this? Are we meant to be sleeping together again by now?'

Regina gritted her teeth. 'No. Of course not. I'm just… I'm worried. Of course you're finding this difficult, but you shouldn't be—'

'Don't you dare tell me what I should or shouldn't be doing!' Emma screeched, gesticulating so violently with the bottle that a glug of vodka slopped out and fell onto the already ruined floor. 'There isn't a rulebook for how to react to something like this, Regina! No one could react to this normally! I'm doing the best I can and, yeah, maybe that's not good enough for you. But I'm trying to deal with this just like I've tried to deal with every other fucking thing that's happened over the last year. Except, with all of that other stuff, I had you there holding me up and helping me through – and now all of a sudden you're the one who's pushed me down and I don't know how to get up without you.'

It took a moment for Emma to catch her breath and, when she did, she suddenly felt like she was caving inwards. All of a sudden her face scrunched up, tears scalding at her eyes, and she threw a shaky arm over them so that Regina wouldn't see as she began to cry in a jerking, heavy way that hurt so much more than the shards of glass that were still digging into her feet.

Slowly sliding down from her stool, Regina swallowed. She watched Emma's body as it shuddered and rocked against the edge of the counter. As she sidled towards her, her heels silent beneath the gulping sounds that were coming from Emma's throat, she never once took her eyes off of the shaking of her shoulders or the thick tears that were sliding down her pale cheeks.

Regina reached her side and took a deep breath.

'Emma…' she said quietly, reaching out a hand. The moment it grazed against Emma's elbow, she watched as the blonde woman broke.

The arm that she had thrown protectively across her face fell back down so that it could cling onto the edge of the counter and the other, which was still clutching hold of the vodka, swung back and suddenly let the bottle go. She launched it directly at Regina, missing completely, and watched as it sailed across the apartment and landed with a shatter across the living room floor.

Regina didn't flinch. She didn't blink. She just watched as Emma's eyes widened, her face crumbling with the realisation of what she had just done, before she let out a resigned whimper and let her body slide down to the floor.

Regina watched as the pool of red began to smear across Emma's jeans, the glass crunching beneath her, and she slowly kneeled down to join her. Shards of glass immediately pierced through her pants and began to claw at her skin, but she still didn't wince. Instead she sat back against the counter, her legs outstretched, and reached out to press her hand against Emma's hunched back. Almost immediately Emma collapsed sideways, throwing her head against Regina's chest. Her thin body shook with her tears as she bunched Regina's shirt up in her fists.

'It's okay,' Regina murmured, forcing down the lump at the base of her throat. She lifted her left hand and tangled it through Emma's hair, running her fingers lightly through the blonde curls until her sniffling began to grow quieter. 'It'll be okay, Emma. I promise you.'

'Go away,' Emma gulped, her words smothered by the warmth of Regina's chest. 'Please. Just… go home.'

But she didn't move to release Regina from beneath her and Regina didn't move to leave her alone. Instead she pulled Emma closer to her, feeling her body getting more and more exhausted, and let her slide down until her face was pressed hotly into her lap. Regina swallowed, stroking her hand over her messed curls again and again, refusing to let herself cry even though her eyes were stinging and her throat was sharper than the glass that their bodies were curled up in.

'I'm so sorry,' she whispered, her right hand finding Emma's shoulder and beginning to rub the same, soothing circle that she had offered her so many times before. 'Emma. I'm… sorry. I'm so, so sorry.'

Emma hiccupped, shaking her head. Her mouth was pressed against Regina's thigh and her words were muffled, but Regina heard her.

'...you were supposed to be my light switch.'

The pain that stabbed through her chest was sharp and immediate. Resisting the urge to shake her, Regina said, 'I am. I am. Emma. I promise you, I—'

'No,' Emma said sadly, scrunching her eyes closed and breathing in the smell of Regina's perfume and clean clothes and clean skin. It was a smell that up until then had only ever made her happy and yet now, all of a sudden, it was threatening to smother her and drag her down beneath the floorboards. 'No, Regina. You're not. I thought you were, but… Everything that's happened to me, it was because of you. Everything. I grew up alone because of you. I'm angry because of you. I've finally found my... my parents, and they're having a cheap affair and they're my age and they look at me without even knowing who I am. I'm alone, and it's because of you. Despite everything you've done for me, you're the reason that I needed you in the first place. You were supposed to be my light switch, but you couldn't be. You were the blackout.'

The words hit Regina like Emma had reached out and slapped her, and she felt her body go weak. She slumped back against the counter, her hands suddenly no longer weaving through Emma's curls; the pain in her chest utterly unbearable. It tore through her.

She looked down at Emma's tiny, curled up body, the knees of her jeans torn and blood still trickling from her bare feet, and she choked. Tears finally started leaking soundlessly down her cheeks. She stayed quiet, holding Emma close to her, until she knew from the change in her breathing and the way that her muscles were no longer wound quite so tightly that she had finally fallen asleep in her lap. She let herself cry until the light had leaked from the sky, and the red that was spread across the floor was dry and unwilling to be moved.