A/N: Sorry for the delay with this chapter. I struggled a bit with it due to the tension and situation between these two, but I'm hoping this scene works to move them forward to a space where things can be addressed and it's a little more fluid to write :) So, please be gentle with me for this one haha, and I hope you enjoy reading :) As always, reviews would be awesome!
Blinking slowly, Regina comes back around with a groan. Her head aches something rotten and her limbs protest unhappily when she attempts to move.
"Ouch..."
She breathes, before she pulls herself together and pushes herself up into a seated position with a grimace. A sharp bolt of pain shoots up her wrist when she puts her weight on it, and she grits her teeth with a miserable sniff that feels wrong. Wiping at her nose with her good hand, she pulls away with a hiss and spies smeared blood on the back of her knuckles.
"Fuck."
She muses quietly, before glancing up, startled, when a quiet expulsion of breath greets this utterance.
"Emma..."
She addresses the blonde uncertainly, dark eyes flashing down to the knife the younger woman drags idly through the dirt of the dungeon floor, before looking back up at pale features decorated with their own scarlet accents.
"Where is she?"
She enquires, not liking the intensity with which the blonde remains fixated on the blade.
"Gone."
Emma replies, stabbing the tip of the knife into the floor and allowing the darker woman a brief flicker of her gaze.
Frowning as she tries to process their current situation, Regina moves stiffly to pull her phone from her pocket and considers the cracked, blank screen glumly.
Damn it.
"... How long was I out?"
She asks, studying her companion uneasily as she strives to calm the terrible thumping inside her skull. She's in pain. Not terribly so, but visibly if the cracked glaze of blood transferred to the back of her hand is anything to go by. She muses solemnly that the fact that Emma has yet to ask her if she's okay hurts a lot more than either her head or her wrist. It also strikes her as alarmingly out of character; the blonde not especially sympathetic by nature, but generally assertively protective of those she cares about.
Perhaps her apathy is only too telling of where we stand with one another...
The brunette swallows, having been made fully aware that she's currently on bad terms with the Saviour, but refusing to believe- refusing to accept- that their relationship might be lost completely. They've been through too much together for a hellish couple of days to ruin everything.
Surely...
"If I'm not wearing pants, I'm hardly going to be wearing a watch, am I?"
The blonde answers her coldly, once more playing with the knife.
"Okay, how long was I out at a guess?"
Regina sighs.
"I don't know... I've been struggling to keep a handle on time since being here."
Emma growls without looking up, but she sounds a little more sincere this time, and the expression she offers the pitted dirt is troubled rather than angry.
Rather than just angry.
"That's understandable."
The brunette replies softly, trying to keep her anxiety from her tone. She knows she's on the clock, and she's crucially aware of just how much is at stake, but it will do her no good to start panicking when the most important thing she needs to figure out right now is how to get them out of the cell they share. She doubts she will receive a kind audience if she approaches their current predicament with the nervousness she feels internally, and so she keeps any further questions to herself for the time being.
It's hard though...
Yes, it's hard. She'd been telling the truth when she'd told Emma she didn't wish to know what the Evil Queen might have done to her- the many scenarios suggested by the younger woman's bare flesh and tangible fury enough to make her feel nauseous with misplaced guilt- but they have relied on each other for so long now that she struggles with the silence when it's plain to see that each of them is hurting.
"That bitch."
She muses quietly, aware that she's inviting further slander from the blonde, but Emma simply studies her silently with her fingers clenching and relaxing around the hilt of the knife. She looks rather obscure sat dusty and nude save for the fine tailoring of the darker woman's jacket, and Regina allows her a thin smile devoid of humour as she pulls herself stiffly around so that they sit facing each other properly. The blonde watches her intently as she does so; her knees drawn up in front of her and feet carefully pressed together to hide more dangerous sights.
Her eyes look plenty dangerous...
Regina muses as she wipes at her nose gingerly in a bid to clean herself up; meeting the younger woman's stony glower solemnly and refusing to look away.
"...We wouldn't be stuck in here if you'd let me out when I asked."
Emma snarls at her finally, and Regina considers this theory before rejecting it firmly.
"Don't be a fool, dear. The Evil Queen showed up when she did because you set up an entrance for her. You provided her with a cue. If I'd attempted to let you out sooner, she would have materialised then. She was listening to us- observing us- and how we might react to one another given the... Situation... Why else leave you on display like that?"
She tacks on boldly, and the younger woman narrows her eyes but leaves this last point undisputed; knowing it's the truth.
"She's probably still listening."
The brunette warns uneasily, and she takes the blonde's lack of response as agreement. Glancing up at the door of the cell, she sighs
"I'm sorry I didn't let you out when you asked... I explained my reasoning and I stand by it, but I'm still sorry... I could have done without hearing some of the comments that woman made, and I'm sure you could have, too."
"I've heard a lot worse over the last couple of days."
"I'm sure you have..."
"Still... She's heard some stuff she definitely didn't appreciate from me, too."
Emma muses as she looks back down at the knife, and Regina follows her gaze with a twitch of her lips. The blonde's admission is a little odd, but it doesn't surprise her in the slightest. There had been a time when she'd accused the younger woman of all sorts of sly and vindictive behaviour, but she has since learned that Emma is unabashedly direct when it comes to any cruel intent. It is something she finds both obscure and refreshing in light of surviving life with her mother, and she offers the blonde a deep sigh as she massages her aching wrist.
"Good. As she well should."
"I didn't like her calling me a brat, though. That was a bit rich."
"... Yes."
Regina agrees, finding this to be a peculiar matter of contention to fixate on given the audacity of the situation as a whole, but again, she isn't surprised. Repaying the blonde's honesty in kind, she clears her throat and admits quietly
"I hate what she said about offering you to me on a platter... I mean, nothing about what she said is okay, but that stung... I... I hope you know I would never take the opportunity to hurt you, Miss Swan- not anymore- whether it was offered to me or not."
"Yes, well, I'm not sure hurting me was really what she was referring to, Madame Mayor."
Emma replies bluntly, meeting the brunette's dark stare coolly for a moment before Regina lowers her eyes uncomfortably.
"I don't-"
"-You don't want to know. I know. How nice and convenient for you."
"Emma, I-"
"-No, no, don't worry. I get it."
The blonde smiles, and there is nothing pleasant in her expression; only ice.
Opening her mouth to say something further on the subject, Regina comes up empty and sighs. After all, now isn't the time to try and fix things; she just needs to get them out of here. She doubts she'd been out cold for long as she feels sore yet fully aware, but this does little to calm her nerves. She doesn't want to end up in a position where she's racing against the clock to get them home, and she is under no illusion that the Evil Queen will let her new plaything be taken away willingly. She's going to have to figure out what to do about the mess she's walked in on, she knows, but for now, she just needs to get them out of this cell and somewhere where she can talk to the blonde without fear of being overheard. It's imperative that she makes it clear that time is not on their side, but the rules of the hex she is bound by are not something she wants her darker half to know. It would be all too easy for the Evil Queen to stand in their way and destroy the mirror, especially if she senses a weakness in the blonde's resolve to go home.
And right now, Miss Swan seems to lack resolve for anything save for getting her own back...
Attention dropping once more to the dangerous glimmer of the blade, she nips warily at her bottom lip.
"She gave you a knife..."
"Yeah, I know, I was there."
Emma grunts. Regina ignores this irritable response and simply watches as the blonde traces dangerous patterns in the dust.
"...Neither you nor I have magic while we remain caged in this cell, and the Queen gave you the means to end me as you have threatened. Or, at very least, to do me harm."
"What, you're going to fucking narrate shit now?"
The blonde grumbles with an angry stab of the knife.
"No."
"Really? Because it sure seems like-"
"-I'm not narrating anything, Miss Swan, because there's nothing to narrate. Nothing's happened."
"I-"
"-The Evil Queen presented you with a knife to do the damage your expression suggests you have every intention of doing me... But you did nothing. I was rendered helpless- unconscious- and you did nothing."
"You're still helpless..."
Emma scoffs coldly, but she looks uncertain as she frowns down at the blade.
"And you're still not going to threaten me with that thing. Not any threat you mean to follow through on, anyway."
Regina replies, wondering for a moment if she's been too bold in her assumption when the blonde glances up at her sharply and tightens her grip on the hilt.
"Don't you get it!? She wants me to hurt you, and I'm not giving that bitch any more of what she wants. Don't flatter yourself."
"I get it. I do... But, that's not your only reason for not doing it."
The brunette muses softly.
"You sound so sure."
"Maybe... Maybe I'm just hopeful."
Regina admits quietly, shrugging with a wince when the younger woman studies her warily.
"... I'm undecided."
Emma replies after a long stretch of silence, and the brunette swallows as she's fairly certain that this is the truth. Digging her nails into her palms nervously and wishing more than anything for the sense of security the younger woman usually offers her when they're up against things, she accepts she's on her own for now and goes back to frowning at the door to the cell; striving to find a solution to their predicament.
We need to get out of here. As friends, as foes, as victims of a mad woman's fancies, it doesn't matter. We just need to get out of here because time's running out.
... Not just that, though... I know the Queen, and I know that before long, she's going to tire of leaving us down here to rot and bicker, and she'll play another hand. I was her, and I know how she-
Eyes widening as a solution so obvious it's laughable occurs to her, she wonders how she failed to see it before.
"I was her, and she was me..."
She murmurs.
"Huh?"
Emma frowns, but Regina ignores her as she pushes herself to her knees with a grimace and makes her way over to where the blonde sits watching her shrewdly.
"You're undecided."
The brunette repeats the younger woman's ominous statement as she leans in close enough to smell the iron of the latter's blood. Her words are met with caged confusion which she can well understand, but doesn't give herself time to worry about.
How could I not see it?! It's so simple!
Very, but then, she supposes she has spent the last hour, the last few days, the last few months adamantly insisting that she and the Queen are of an entirely different ilk. That they're not the same person. That she has nothing in common with the vile creature lurking unseen in the shadows...
Except for blood. I was her, and she was me, and we share blood. That's how she broke the seal to the crypt, and that's how I'm getting us out of here, because I'd bet just about anything that her revulsion towards me- a revulsion that's entirely reciprocated- means she's distanced herself from every part of me... She's so certain she's winning that she's made a grand oversight, and while it might not help us for long, it will help us for now, and that's a start!
"You're undecided whether you mean to use the blade the Queen left you to play with, but what if I make that decision for you?"
She murmurs into silver curls now; pulling Emma into her so that she may confide in the blonde using barely a whisper.
"... What?"
The younger woman replies uncertainly, trying to pull back as she is accosted with the familiar scent of the Mayor's perfume and the intimacy of her touch.
"What if I tell you to cut me? What if I ask you to?"
Regina whispers, knowing it would be much safer to simply ask for the blonde's knife- to take it from her- and use it on herself, but she is still infallibly certain that beneath Emma's fury, her loyalty remains.
"...Why?"
The blonde challenges softly- dangerously- and the Mayor cups the younger woman's jaw gently with her fingers so that she may impart her reasoning without being overheard; playing with fire in her bid to offer the younger woman a chance to pick a fresh hand in this twisted game and gain back some of what she's lost.
"The blood of the captor will set their prisoner free from this cell... The Queen's blood. My blood."
"... Surely she wouldn't be that stupid..."
Emma murmurs with a frown.
"Stupid? No. Conceited?... You tell me. When we first met, Miss Swan, how many times did I try to stop you? To best you? To force you away?"
"Enough..."
"And how many times did I actually succeed? How many times did my certainty that I held all the aces come back to bite me because I failed to alter my game to allow for the joker?"
"You were too arrogant to win. I even told you so once or twice."
"Yes... And it still took me some time to learn... She sees herself as superior. As much more than myself... As someone other than myself."
Regina whispers, aware that the blonde now leans in willingly towards her to catch her every word.
"So? She'll figure it out. As you said, she's most likely listening... And she watches. She uses the glass and she watches."
"Then we go fast, and we go somewhere without glass. We go to the stables-"
"-No!... Not the stables..."
Emma replies uneasily, and Regina frowns; poised to ask for more information before reminding herself that it can wait.
"The woods, then. We go to the woods, and we figure things out from there. We've always figured things out, Emma. Always."
"This isn't like always."
The younger woman hisses icily, and the Mayor pulls back to meet her furious gaze.
"I know. Okay? I know... But we can talk about it once we're out... We can talk about it."
She finishes quietly, imagining she looks just as uncertain as Emma does as the blonde studies her with the caged wariness of an animal that's yet to decide if it means to bite.
"You may well regret that that offer..."
Emma warns, and Regina thins her lips as she imagines she very well might, before holding out her hand and leaning back in so that her lips brush against tangled silver.
"And I might regret this one, but I trust you. You know how blood magic works; you know how little is needed."
"I also know how much damage a knife like this can do."
"Well... The choice is yours."
Regina states simply; sounding surprisingly calm in spite of the fearful hammering of her heart. She imagines that to any observing this strange little scene, it would appear profoundly intimate, and she wonders what the Queen makes of their proximity as the blonde interlaces her fingers with those of her offered hand and leans further in so that the Mayor can hear the shuddering whisper of her breath.
It is intimate. As intimate as it gets...
She swallows as Emma squeezes her fingers hard enough to hurt, before tensing up in terror as the blonde touches the blade to her inner wrist; preparing for the spray she knows will follow and the pain that doesn't come.
"We still need to talk..."
The younger woman murmurs against her cheek; tracing the knife slowly upwards over her palm, before once more tightening her grip as she digs its sharp point into the pad of the brunette's middle finger.
"Ah!"
Regina hisses through gritted teeth, trying to pull back when the blonde applies more pressure to drive the blade cruelly towards the bone, before acting on instinct and clawing at the Sheriff's cheek with her good hand in a bid to pay her back. Freezing when Emma retaliates by dropping the knife in favour of plunging her fingers into her hair and finding her lips aggressively with her own, she emits a noise somewhere between a yelp and a groan as sharp teeth nip at her tongue. Emma clasps her injured hand tightly in her fist as she pulls her roughly down to straddle bare hips clumsily; hot blood running down her wrist and dripping from between the blonde's fingers to dapple the dust.
"What are you-"
She chokes into the younger woman's unlikely kiss as the latter uses one hand to hold her flush. Meanwhile, the other releases bloodied flesh and is thrown back in a parody of passion to grip at the bars to the door.
"The woods. Now."
Emma snarls into her hair, and there's just enough time for each of them to sense the Queen's presence as the disgraced monarch realises what they've done, before the dungeon becomes enveloped in darkness, and her cry of rage is replaced by birdsong.