A/N: Trigger warning – vague mentions of domestic abuse in this chapter.
September 1st 2003
She peered around the edge of the door, scanning the noisy room beyond. There were hundreds of students already there, voices bouncing off the walls. She shivered. But she knew she had to enter. One, two, three, four, five, pause. One, two, three, four, five, pause.
A student knocked into her as they hurried into the room, chattering with their friends and ignoring the meek blonde hovering in the doorway. Emma withdrew, flattening herself against the wall. No, come on, she scolded herself. You have to do this. One, two, three, four, five, pause. One, two, three, four, five, pause.
Hands balled into fists. The new counting technique her therapist had taught her wasn't working. She wasn't feeling calm. She wasn't feeling in control. Turning, she set off down the corridor, head down. Leaving the building, she found herself in an unfamiliar part of the new school grounds. The sun shone high overhead, reminding her it was midday and she was hungry. But not hungry enough to face the bustling canteen. Looking around, she set off towards a large tree, its broad branches casting a wide shadow on the grass below.
Sitting down, she shuffled about, trying to get comfortable leaning against the rough bark. Eventually she settled and pulled her satchel towards her. Inside she found a bag of chips, a bottle of water and an apple. "Just in case," her foster mother had said that morning when she handed Emma money for lunch. Back then, four hours ago, Emma had been confident she would be able to walk into the canteen of the new school and order lunch. But when the moment came, it was too much.
Settling down, she opened the bag of chips and pulled out a book. Within moments, she had fallen into the world created by the words on the pages.
"Hey, it's the new weirdo."
Emma looked up, instinctively knowing the snide remark was about her. It wasn't the first time in her life she had been called weird and it probably wouldn't be the last. But it wasn't fair. There was no such thing as normal. Everyone was different. Just because she was different in a different way, that didn't make her weird. At least, that's what her foster parents told her. Her peers, however, seemed to have other ideas. In front of her, silhouetted against the bright sunshine beyond, were three already familiar girls.
"What are you doing here?" the redhead asked. Zelena West, Emma remembered. She was good with names.
"Reading," Emma replied, holding up the book as if to illustrate a point.
The move was foolish and the book was snatched out of her hand at once by Regina. "Black Swan Green," she read. "Swans again, huh?"
"I like swans," Emma stated. "I'm reading books with 'swan' in the title. I've already read Wild Swans and The Trumpet of the Swan and Swan Sister and three different books all called Swan Song. Isn't it strange how authors write books with the same title? If I wrote I book I'd give it a new title, not one which was already used. Swan song refers to -"
"Oh shut up," Regina interrupted, throwing the book back in Emma's lap. "Move."
"What?" the blonde frowned, picking up the book which had slapped against her thighs.
"Move. You're in our spot."
"Your spot?"
"Yes, our spot. Move it, psycho," Zelena snarled.
"Why is it your spot?"
Regina visibly bristled. "It just is, ok? Everyone knows we sit here. So move, right now."
Something inside Emma told her it was a good idea to obey the impolite demand. She gathered her book, empty crisp packet, apple and water bottle and stood up. Before she could walk away, however, Regina reached over and plucked the apple out of her hand.
"Hey, that's my lunch," Emma protested.
The brunette's lip curled into a cruel smile. Looking Emma straight in the eye, she took a bite of the apple. As she chewed, she raised an eyebrow pointedly. Even Emma, who struggled to understand social cues at times, knew to leave without arguing. As she traipsed back to the school building, she heard the cackles of laughter. Her heart clenched. Two whole years of this? How was she going to get through her final years of high school with such mean classmates? Maybe, if she asked her foster parents, they could go back to New York. One thing was certain, she didn't want to stay in Maine.
"Where's Mom?" Henry asked as he shook the dice in his little hands.
"Just getting your bedroom ready, I think," Emma replied, glancing towards the door to the common room, half expecting Regina to walk back in at any moment. But considering the brunette had said she would join them in ten minutes and it had already been close to two hours, Emma suspected she would have to go to find Regina herself.
"I'm hungry."
"Me too," Emma admitted, realising it was almost lunch time. "Come on, let's see what they're cooking."
Swan's Shelter had a small catering team, staffed solely by females, of course. These chefs provided some basic food for the women and children in the shelter. It also served as employment opportunities for some of the shelter's former guests as several women had found work in the kitchen as a stepping stone towards independence once more.
"Can I get a burger?" Henry asked as he led the way towards the kitchen.
"Maybe," Emma said. "Does your mom allow you to eat burgers?"
"All the time," Henry said, eyes wide as he looked sincerely up at the blonde.
Emma doubted that very much but the dilemma ended when it transpired there were no burgers available. Henry pouted but then pointed at the tomato pasta dish. Emma herself went to the fridge to retrieve her pizza leftovers.
"What's that?" Henry asked as Emma sat down opposite him with two glasses of water and a cardboard box.
"Pizza," Emma replied. "My foster dad told me to eat it for lunch."
"Your dad still tells you what to eat?" Henry frowned. "You're an adult. Don't you get to choose your own meals? When I grow up, I'm going to eat burgers every day. Mom eats salads all the time and makes me eat them too. When I'm an adult, I'm never going to eat salad. Salad is gross."
"Salad is healthy," Emma replied as she opened the pizza box and peered at the contents. The leftover pizza slices had slid on top of one another during their journey in her handbag. She separated them and looked with suspicion at her food. Cold pizza looked different to hot pizza, she decided. She wasn't sure if she liked the appearance of cold or the hot pizza better.
Steeling herself, she picked up a slice and took a bite. Interesting. Different. Acceptable. She took another bite. Henry was already halfway through his pasta, chatting away to Emma about his love of burgers.
"Hello Emma."
The blonde turned towards the small voice which had emanated from behind her left shoulder. "Hi Roland, how are you?" she asked the little boy who stood there.
"Good thank you. Look, Mommy bought me a monkey." He held out the plush toy and waggled it. "He's called Mike."
"I have a toy elephant," Henry piped up. "He's called Eddie."
Roland eyed the new boy for a moment. He had seen Henry the previous evening but hadn't said anything to him yet. "Monkeys live in jungles," Roland announced.
"Elephants live in -" Henry stopped, biting his lip.
"Elephants sometimes live in jungles too," Emma offered. "Asian elephants live in jungles but the African elephants live on the grass plains of Africa."
"Wanna play?" Roland asked.
Henry beamed, pushing his empty bowl away. "Sure. Can I go get Eddie?" he asked the blonde.
"I'll come with you," Emma said, knowing she should check on Regina and also unsure what Henry might be walking in on. It wasn't unusual for women to stay strong in front of their children but break down when alone. While natural, the sight of their parent crying was confronting for a young child and Emma wanted to make sure Henry didn't have to deal with Regina in such a state without another adult present.
Leaving Roland and promising they'd be back soon, Emma and Henry cleared away their lunch items and headed back into the corridor. Emma knocked on the room door and waited.
"Why can't we just go in?" Henry asked, hand reaching up to turn the handle.
"Because it's polite to knock," Emma explained.
"It's just Mom," Henry argued.
Emma just smiled at him and knocked again. When the second request for entry went unanswered, she turned the handle and poked her head around the doorframe. The room was dark but she could make out the shape of Regina, curled up on her bed. From the silence, Emma suspected the woman was asleep.
"Ok, go and get Eddie and then go and meet Roland," Emma said, pushing the door open a little further so he could enter. She followed and waited until he left before closing the door behind him, leaving herself alone in the room with the sleeping brunette.
Crossing to the window, she pulled the curtains back a little just to allow a little natural light into the space. A shaft of sunlight fell towards the bed, illuminating the woman balled into the foetal position. She looked so small, Emma observed. Slowly, she crossed to the bed and sat on the edge of it. The movement of the mattress, however slight, jolted Regina awake.
"Who's there?" she asked, sitting up at once and squinting as her eyes adjusted to the dusky room.
"It's me. It's Emma," the blonde said at once. "It's ok, you're safe."
"Emma," the brunette said, sighing and flopping back to the mattress. The movement made her wince.
"You're hurt," Emma frowned. "Do you need to see a doctor?"
Regina shook her head, mouth set in a firm line. "I'm fine." The short reply did not invite further questions and Emma understood.
"Henry is playing with another boy who's staying here. Roland is about the same age and they seemed to get on well. Henry has had some lunch and -"
"What time is it?" Regina interrupted.
"Um, about half twelve I think," Emma said.
"I fell asleep." The statement was unnecessary. "I just lay down for a moment and I must have drifted off. I'm sorry, Emma. I didn't mean for you to look after Henry for so long. It's just been a tough couple of days and I haven't really slept. I guess it all caught up with me."
"No need to apologise. Henry and I had a great time," Emma placated. "When was the last time you ate?" Regina shrugged. "Do you want some lunch?"
"Not really."
"What about some fruit then? An apple?"
Regina's mind jolted back sixteen years, an image of teenage Emma flashing before her eyes. Did Emma see it too? Did Emma remember that day?
"Um, an apple?"
"Yeah, or banana. We may even have some watermelon. Whatever you feel like. Just something healthy. You need to keep your strength up for both you and Henry."
Maybe Emma didn't remember. Or maybe there was another memory in which Regina and her friends bullied her running through her mind, Regina mused. But by the look of genuine concern on Emma's face, somehow, she didn't think the blonde was reminiscing. It seemed that in spite of everything the two of them had been through, Emma really did just want to help Regina.
"I like apples," Regina said quietly, sounding almost childlike in her admission.
Emma stood up at once. "I'll get you an apple."
"No, I can get it myself," Regina said, pushing herself up once more, trying to hide the stab of pain she experienced at the movement. The brief contortion of her features, however, was not missed by the blonde.
"Regina, you are hurt. Do you need to see a doctor? We have an amazing female doctor who comes once a week for general health check-ups but she also comes on request. Shall I call her for you? Or do you need to go to the hospital to get an x-ray?"
"No, I'm fine. It's just my ribs."
Emma's features darkened. She had seen this before; countless time. She might not know the details but, she didn't need Regina to tell her how her ribs got hurt.
"Stay here," Emma said firmly. "I'll be back in five minutes."
Before Regina could protest, Emma was gone from the room. She eased herself back down onto the bed, hand instinctively coming up to rub soothing circles against her damaged ribs. She hadn't wanted Emma to know about that injury. In fact, she didn't want anyone to know about it but certainly not Emma.
It hadn't been the first time she had taken the man's wrath. He was usually able to keep his anger in check and didn't strike out all the time. But it happened on occasion. The first time had shocked him as much as it had shocked Regina. He had stared at her, eyes glued to her red cheek where his hand had struck her and then turned and stormed from the room. He apologised that night. She forgave him. The second time had been several months later and it was a more brutal attack. There was no shock on his face when he had seen what he'd done, however. One of Regina's friends, back when she had friends, had asked her where she got the black eye. She'd fumbled a lie and changed the subject. He'd become more careful after that; striking in places he knew wouldn't be visible.
"Hey, I just saw Belle," Emma said reappearing in the room with an apple and a glass of water. "She's got a free time slot in ten minutes if you want to speak with her."
Regina took the food and drink with a quiet murmur of thanks but said nothing in response to Emma's suggestion. The blonde didn't push.
"Henry seems like a great kid. He's playing with Roland who's been here for a few weeks already. They're about the same age so it'll be good for him to have a friend while you guys get settled."
"Thank you," Regina said quietly before taking a bite of the apple. As she chewed, she realised she hadn't eaten anything she arrived at the shelter.
"We have various activities for kids which run through the week," Emma continued. "And if you need to go out and run an errand, you can always leave Henry here. Our staff or the other women will keep an eye out for him."
"Thanks but if I leave, I'll be taking Henry with me." The thought of going anywhere without her son made Regina's stomach flip.
"Ok, that's fine too," Emma said at once. Regina wasn't the first woman to not want to let her child stray far from her side. "Um, may I ask why you chose to come to New York?"
"It's a big city," Regina shrugged. "Surely it's easier to disappear somewhere like here than in Maine. He won't think to look for me here."
"And by he, do you mean Robin?"
Regina's gaze snapped up from the apple she'd half eaten. "Who?"
"Robin Locksley," Emma clarified.
There was a frown then a dry chuckle. "Oh, Robin. My high school boyfriend. God, I haven't thought about him in years."
"So you two didn't get married?"
Another short laugh. "No. Robin and I broke up. The day after graduation actually."
"Oh."
The two women fell silent, both thinking of a night, fifteen years earlier. It was a night neither dwelled on often but, in hindsight, the moment from which their futures had dramatically diverted and set each woman upon the paths they now walked. High school was over. Graduation was complete. Emma had left for New York the following morning and Regina had made her way over to Robin's to end their relationship which was reaching the eighteen-month mark. That break-up had begun a domino effect Regina herself had no control over. The final domino to fall had happened last week and now she was here, in New York, hiding from her husband.
"So, this Belle woman, she's a psych?"
"Psychologist rather than psychiatrist, yes," Emma nodded.
"And I have to speak to her?"
"Nothing is mandatory but it is strongly recommended for everyone who comes to stay here for a while. Belle is great with children too if you want to speak with her and Henry together."
"You're not a psychologist?" Regina asked.
"No, I'm a qualified counsellor."
"So I have to talk to Belle, not you?"
Emma turned to look at the woman beside her who was peeking almost shyly up at her from beneath a curtain of hair which had fallen across her face. A flicker of something Emma recognised as pity fluttered through her. The blonde scolded herself. Pity wasn't what these women needed from her. Equally, she wasn't sure whether she was strong enough to give Regina what she needed just yet.
"I think it would be good if your first meeting was with Belle. Then, maybe next week, we can sit down and talk. I just need some time to process all of this first in order to give you what you'll need from my professional role. Is that ok?"
Regina nodded at once. "Of course. I'm sorry to even ask. I shouldn't have put you in that position. I'll speak to Belle, don't worry. I just … I thought maybe it would be easier talking to someone I know."
At that, Emma cocked her head to one side. "Regina, you don't know me." The two had history, sure, but it wasn't right for Regina to claim she knew Emma. For one thing, Emma wasn't the same person she had been fifteen years ago. For another, Regina and her gang had never made any attempt to get to know Emma. They had just enjoyed teasing and taunting her for two years until she finally left town. Neither Regina nor Zelena nor Vicky would be able to tell Emma a single personal thing about her life.
The brunette blushed. "No, I guess I don't." There was a pause. "Emma, I'm so sorry."
"I know," Emma replied shortly. "But I don't think now is the right time to talk about that. Do you want to come with me to meet Belle? I'll introduce you and then make sure Henry and Roland are ok."
Regina nodded and stood up, knowing the longer she delayed the meeting, the harder it would be. "Ok," she said, draining the glass of water. "I'm ready."
January 9th 2004
The cold bit at her cheeks as she ran, the icy air hurting her lungs with every breath she took.
"Keep it up," their gym teacher called as she passed on a pushbike, cycling up and down the length of the class as they ran the cross country track.
Emma dropped her gaze to the uneven floor and kept up her steady pace. Left, right, left, right, left, right. Her heart was beating hard against her ribs. She hadn't been for a run in weeks, the Christmas holidays and the snowy weather of Maine putting paid to her usual schedule. But their gym teacher had other ideas.
"Hey Swan."
Her stomach knotted. She knew that drawl. She didn't need to glance to her right to know who had fallen into step beside her. Regina's skin was pink from the cold, her plump lips bright red as they sneered at her.
"What did Santa bring you for Christmas? Something weird, I bet."
"Santa doesn't exist," Emma replied. "It would be impossible for him to exist. In order to deliver that many presents to children all over the world he would have to be able to travel at 650 miles per second. Plus, reindeers can't fly and magic isn't real."
Regina looked blankly at her for a moment. "Freak," she said simply, bumping her arm heavily into Emma's before speeding up. She only looked back when she heard a cry. Emma's sneakers had lost their grip on the icy ground and the blonde had fallen hard. Something deep inside Regina twinged and her pace slowed slightly. She should stop, she should help. But then the cackle of her redheaded friend reached her ears and she turned back around, running on to catch up with Zelena who had seen the whole thing and leaving Emma on the floor.
Green eyes, filled with tears, watched her run away before turning her attention to her ankle from which stabs of pain were shooting. She clutched the limb, the movement causing another uncomfortable sensation across her chest.
"Hey, Emma, are you ok?"
Emma looked up to see one of her classmates, a quiet boy she hadn't spoken to before but knew to be called Killian, standing in front of her looking down, his big eyes framed with heavy black eyeliner.
"No," she said through gritted teeth.
Killian looked around for their gym teacher who was already cycling back down the hill towards them. He waved to direct her attention to them and seconds later the teacher was skidding to a stop and rushing to Emma's side.
"Ok, what happened here?" the gym teacher asked, crouching down.
"I fell," Emma said shortly.
"No, she didn't. Regina Mills pushed her," Killian explained.
Emma shot him a look, silently asking him to not say any more. "Is this true, Emma?" their gym teacher asked.
"No, Miss, I slipped. I wasn't looking where I was going and it's icy." Well, that was true but Emma knew she hadn't fallen because of the surface.
"Can you walk?" the teacher asked, pulling up the bottom of Emma's tracksuit to look at the swollen ankle the teen was clutching.
Emma shrugged and then winced. The movement had caused pain in her ribs.
"Does it hurt?"
"Um, yeah," Emma nodded.
The gym teacher sighed, as if inconvenienced by Emma's injury. Pulling her cell from a pocket in her tracksuit, she called to the school, asking them to send a car up the cross-country track to collect them. She then instructed Killian to wait with Emma before climbing back on her pushbike and catching up with the rest of the class, all of whom had passed the injured student by now, shooting the girl on the floor curious glances but not stopping to see what was wrong.
"You should have told her the truth," Killian said, sitting down on a rock beside Emma. "Everyone knows Regina and her cronies have been bullying you. Now she's hurt you. Maybe the school will actually do something about it now."
"Just leave it," Emma replied shortly. "I can handle it."
Killian's large brown eyes, highlighted by his heavy makeup, looked concernedly over at Emma. "Are you ok?"
"No," Emma admitted. "My ankle fucking hurts and I think I cracked a rib."
Fishing in the pocket of his sweats, Killian pulled out a chocolate bar and handed it to Emma.
"Why are you running with candy?" Emma asked.
"I like candy," Killian replied. "Go on, take it."
Emma hesitated but did as instructed. She unwrapped the bar and snapped the treat in half, handing one piece back to Killian. "Thanks, I'm Emma, by the way."
"I know who you are. I'm Killian."
"Yeah, I know," Emma said quietly, taking a bite of her chocolate bar and trying not to think about the intense pain still radiating from what she suspected was a broken ankle. So Regina had escalated from verbal abuse to breaking her bones, Emma mused. Great, just when she thought life couldn't get any worse.
A/N: Don't worry, nothing is going to happen between Emma and Killian. I just wanted her to have a friend at school and I'm looking forward to using a few of Regina's putdowns in the flashbacks!