The blonde offloads the Mayor gently onto the plush covers of her bed, trying to ignore the cramps that ravage the muscles of her arms. Massaging her biceps, she admonishes the darker woman with a kind grimace, muttering playfully.
"If you have plans of becoming a regular alcoholic, I'm going to have to insist you go on a diet or invest in a chair-lift."
"Shu'up."
She pulls at Regina's shoulder to position the brunette on her side as the latter's fingers find her wrist weakly and take hold. Emma sighs, before gently plucking the older woman's hand away and turning for the door.
"Emma?..."
Dark eyes find her blearily and the Sheriff moves quickly back over to the bed, bending low so that her face is level with the Mayor's.
"I'm just going downstairs for a second, ok? I need to get you some water or you'll be spending tomorrow on your back with the blinds drawn... I'll be right back."
The blonde smiles despite herself at the curious wave of relief that touches the darker woman's features, before hurrying out of the room and down the hallway.
As she reaches the top of the stairs, she glances over at the door on the far side of the hall with a frown. Nibbling her lip, she moves quietly in that direction and knocks softly on the solid wood. She receives no reply, but slowly pushes the door open; peeking into the darkness of her son's bedroom.
Henry lies on top of his covers, still dressed in his clothes, with his back to her. She wants more than anything to pad softly over and pull the boy to her, but she can't. Not just because of Regina's current state or the fact that she's in the Mayor's house- the latter having made her thoughts on Emma and Henry spending time together perfectly clear- but because she's just not built that way. She is unsure what emotion will be released if she goes and comforts the boy, and this stops her from entering the room any further. Instead, she clears her throat and speaks quietly.
"Henry?... I'm sorry I yelled at you... I shouldn't have... I... Your mom is sick... She was drinking, you're right, but I think she's upset about something and I didn't want what you said to make it worse and I guess I didn't go about it in the best way... I... I didn't mean to snap at you, kid... I'm sorry?"
The blonde holds her breath as she waits for an answer but Henry remains stoically silent. With a sigh, she pads defeatedly out the room, closing the door softly behind her.
She remains oblivious to the fact that her son lies fast asleep; a victim of the stress of the evening.
Hurrying down the stairs, the Sheriff makes her way into the kitchen, opening various cabinets and cupboards until she finds a stack of nihilistically simple glasses. She recalls the brunette's presumed preference for bottled water from the previous night- Shit, I'm becoming a god damned regular at l'maison de Mills- but a brief check in the fridge comes up empty.
"Well, fuck it, tap water isn't going to kill her."
She pours the water carefully; not filling the glass too high as she doubts Regina's motor skills will be up to their usual standards. Spying a neat pile of laundry waiting in the conjoined utility room, the blonde selects a soft, blue washcloth and holds it under the cold water to soak before ringing it out.
When she reenters the Mayor's bedroom, she finds her once more lying on her back with her eyes closed. Creeping quietly closer to the darker woman, she places her hand gently on the brunette's shoulder so as not to startle her when she perches on the edge of the bed. Regina's eyes flicker open and Emma is pleased to see that the delirious quality of intoxication has now been replaced by a hazy, delayed exhaustion with which she is all too familiar herself.
"Drink."
The brunette shakes her head weakly and the Sheriff mimics her with greater conviction; sliding her arm beneath the darker woman's shoulders and propping her up with no concern to the latter's moaned protest.
"Uh uh, I wasn't asking. Drink."
Regina rolls her eyes feebly and takes a few sips before shaking her head once more. This time, the blonde shows her some mercy and lowers her back down onto the bed. The Mayor looks up at the younger woman tiredly; holding her pleasant, green gaze silently. Emma eventually drops her eyes to her lap and sighs.
"So, are you going to tell me what happened?"
"... I had a little too much to drink, just as Henry so graciously informed you..."
"Uhuh, I'd sussed that much for myself... But why?"
"Miss Swan, demand for an explanation as to one's drinking habits seems fairly rich coming from yourself."
Emma glances back up at the Mayor, but instead of a snarl, her lips form a weak smile as she notes to herself that Regina's all too familiar prim way of bitching is probably a good sign that the older woman is sobering up slightly.
"You had more than just a little too much to drink, Regina... Now... Either something's happened since I left here this morning... Or I did something wrong... If I did... If you hadn't wanted me to stay, or-"
"-Don't."
"-I'm just saying-"
"-Miss Swan... Emma... Don't. I made it very clear I wanted you to stay, did I not?"
"Well... Yeah... But-"
"-You did nothing wrong, dear. Nothing! It's not you that should be fretting, I... I..."
But the brunette's eyes clamp shut as her voice cracks shakily, and for a moment the Sheriff wonders if her stomach has given up storing the copious amount of alcohol bestowed upon it, but then she realizes with greater alarm that the Mayor is on the verge of tears. Leaning down over the darker woman nervously, she tries to adopt a soothing tone as she pats her awkwardly on the shoulder.
"Hey now! Hey! Regina... Come on... Please don't be upset... Just tell me what's wrong!"
"I'm so s-sorry..."
"What? Why!?... Regina?"
"I... Emma, I tried to hurt you..."
The blonde blinks in surprise before offering the older woman a small nod of her head.
"Well, no shit... I know that..."
"...You do?"
"Of course I do... I guess I wasn't always completely blameless either... But... I kind of get it... Some of it..."
The Mayor frowns in confusion, before realizing that the Sheriff refers to the many weeks spent at each other's throats after her arrival. Shaking her head miserably, she places a hand over her eyes in an attempt to keep her dignity; aware that neither of them are particularly well equipped with emotion of the salted variety.
"No..."
"Regina, it's okay."
"It's not! What I did is not okay!"
"Look, we-"
"-Emma I tried to hurt you! Really tried to hurt you! And it's not... It's not okay!"
"I don't-... You mean the brakes on the cruiser?"
"No! I..."
Oh God, the fucking brakes... She wouldn't have been hurt, surely... I mean... The car was supposed to crash... And it was Sydney's idea... But-
"I know about the brakes, and it was a pretty low move... But-"
"-I don't mean the brakes... I... I t-tried to...Oh god-"
"-I don't want to know."
Emma's tone is low and steady, and the brunette removes her hand cautiously from her eyes to regard the younger woman warily. The softness in the Sheriff's expression unsettles her greatly and she opens her mouth to protest before slender fingers find her hair and stroke it away from her face again and again.
The blonde chews at the inside of her cheek, feeling exceptionally awkward as she runs her fingers through the brunette's hair in such a uncharacteristically caring fashion, but when dark eyes slip closed and some of the anguish disappears from the older woman's brow she decides it's worth it. Regina mutters quietly
"You... You don't want to know?"
"Nope."
"Emma..."
"Regina, I'm happy, and I get a feeling that if you tell me what you're about to tell me I won't be anymore... There's not a lot of times before that I've been happy... Whatever you did... You said yourself you were sorry..."
"... I am... But my dear, this isn't something that can just be let go!"
"It is. You said you tried to hurt me- really hurt me- and I'm fine, which would suggest whatever you had planned to say or do, you didn't. Or you fixed it. If you need me to tell you I forgive you or whatever the fuck will make you feel better, then I do! Whatever it is! Just... It's ok..."
The brunette looks up at the Sheriff with something akin to disbelief, but the younger woman simply shrugs. Regina sighs, knowing that the blonde declaring her forgiveness should mean nothing. Knowing that if Emma only knew what she was forgiving she may feel far less inclined to do so. But there's something about what the Sheriff had said that stops her from crying out to the blonde to stop with her stupidity.
I'm happy... There's not a lot of times before that I've been happy.
And, isn't that something which she should understand? Can understand?
Better than most, dear.
Sighing, the brunette reaches for the Sheriff and rests her hand on the latter's knee. She jerks slightly as Emma places the chilled flannel across her forehead, but keeps her hand in place. Glancing up at the blonde with a sense of miserable half-closure she regards her appreciatively.
"You should get yourself home, dear, it's getting late..."
"I'm not going anywhere."
"...But... What about Henry?"
"I'll cross that bridge tomorrow. I don't think it's all too crazy that I'd stay to make sure you were ok... After all... That's exactly what I'm doing."
"I'll be fine..."
"Yup, you probably will."
"Emma, you don't have to hang around just because I did something stupid..."
"Actually, I do, sorry!"
The blonde smiles and swings her legs up onto the bed so that she rests next to the Mayor comfortably.
"I'm not having it on my conscience if your drunk ass goes rolling onto her back in the night and drowns in her own vomit. Rock star death; not your style."
"Miss Swan! I would not!"
"You might! Sorry, Madame Mayor, but arrogance and class do not exempt you from such dangers."
Emma sighs as she teases, fully aware of Regina's displeasure at her insinuations, but pleased to have roused this more familiar side to the Mayor. She shimmies down the bed so that she lies flush beside the brunette and the darker woman rolls over tipsily to brush at her lips. The blonde moves away with a grin.
"Oh no you don't, you need to get some sleep. Doctor's orders!"
"Miss Swan, I have a suspicion that you would be hard put to place a bandaid on the right way round..."
The Sheriff ignores the Mayor's muttering as the brunette's eyes begin to close for progressively longer periods of time. She begins to think the older woman has fallen asleep when Regina lets out a low sob. Moving up onto her elbow, Emma regards her worriedly, watching as a delicate droplet seeps from the corner of sooty lashes. Lying back down, she pulls the brunette to her firmly, moving so that she lies on her side, holding the Mayor as the latter nestles against her.
"Whatever it is... It's ok. If you want to tell me, you can... But not tonight. Not when you're drunk... Understand?"
"...But you're happy."
"I am... And you're sorry... Please, just try get some rest."
"...Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Regina wraps her arms tightly around the blonde's waist- vaguely aware of the fact that Emma still wears her jacket- and buries her face into the comfort of the Sheriff's chest, unmindful of the salted tears that dampen golden curls as her breathing becomes more regular and shallow as sleep engulfs her blissfully.
The old pawnbroker raises an eyebrow in curiosity as he makes his way slowly back from his business in the woods. Passing the Mayor's mansion, he spies something which stops him in his tracks and creeps a little closer to the grand gate to investigate.
"What might you be doing here at this hour, Dearie?"
Of course, the object of his curiosity offers him no response, but his mind is already racing as he thinks back to his conversation with the Mayor in her office. Turning round, he proceeds silently down the path, stopping only once to peer back at the old yellow bug parked outside the Mayor's house.