A/N: thank you for all of the amazing feedback from that last chapter. I hope you all like the upcoming directions I choose to navigate as these two women reconnect.
"Regina, I can't do this," Emma said, her heart in her mouth. One, two, three, four, five, pause. One, two, three, four, five, pause. "I can be your primary contact. I can be your counsellor. I can give you and Henry all the support you need at the shelter. But I can't talk about that night, please. It's in the past. It happened. I can't rake back over those memories."
The blonde got to her feet, needing some distance but Regina jumped up too. "Emma, stop, don't go. I'm sorry."
"I'm not going far. I just need some space, ok? I have to clear my thoughts." Emma said. "I'll be back in a bit."
With that, Emma turned and strode off across the park, hands deep in her pockets. Regina watched her walk away, heart heavy with regret. She knew it had been a mistake to stay at the shelter once she realised who ran it. This was too much. It was too much for Emma and it was too much for Regina. She should leave, she knew that. But at the same time, she knew she wouldn't. She couldn't. Now she'd found Emma, not that she ever truly searched hard, she couldn't walk away. Sinking back down onto the picnic blanket, Regina forced herself to turn her attention to her son who was still kicking the soccer ball back and forth between his feet.
Henry had to be her number one. He always had been. And if Emma was willing to be their counsellor, to be the person in charge of their case, to help them make a new life in New York City, then Regina was willing to let the blonde play that role in her life. It wasn't the role she once imagined Emma playing but there were a number of elements in her life which hadn't worked out the way she planned.
She couldn't regret her choices because they brought her Henry, despite the pain and anguish which went along with them. But she could regret her behaviour in high school; the way she had treated Emma and other students. I just need the chance to show her I'm sorry, Regina thought to herself. But she wouldn't push. Emma needed space. Emma needed their relationship to be professional. Regina was respectful of that. She could do that. But one day, maybe weeks, months in the future, once she was out of the shelter and settled in her new life, there were some things which she knew she needed to say to the blonde woman still walking further away from her, across the park.
"Mom, come play with me," Henry called, bored of entertaining himself.
Regina pushed herself up off the rug and checked the laces on her sneakers. Satisfied, she made her way towards her son who grinned widely at her and kicked the soccer ball towards the approaching woman. His aim wasn't fantastic yet and the ball went wide but Regina jogged to bring it back in line and the two of them began to pass to one another. Regina had never played much soccer before becoming a mother to a young child but since Henry had been able to run around in the park, it had been the boy's game of choice and, as such, Regina found herself often involved in the sport.
The rhythmic tapping of the ball between them at least offered some sort of distraction from the conversation she and Emma had just endured. In the back of her mind, however, hurt green orbs glittered with pain.
One, two, three, four, five, pause. One, two, three, four, five, pause. Emma breathed heavily through her nose, fingernails digging into the palm of her balled fists. One, two, three, four, five, pause. One, two, three, four, five, pause. The memories were fading slowly, images of herself and Regina back in that dark classroom became blurred and hazy. But the emotions which had resurfaced remained sharp.
It had been a long time since she had thought of that night. After working through every painful detail with Archie, Emma had come to terms with the events and moved on. Seeing Regina, however, brought everything back. That said, it had not been the first memory which she had relived when she saw Regina standing in Swan's Shelter. Recollections of the many, numerous ways Regina and her friends had bullied her came first. It was only when she was sat in that room, trying to conduct Regina's initial session that she remembered the look in those beautiful brown eyes.
One, two, three, four, five, pause. One, two, three, four, five, pause. Her heartbeat still pounded, her body thrumming with myriad emotions as she tried to get herself under control. She could deal with the anger, with the hurt of being the subject of teasing. It wasn't new to her and had been a constant feature of her school life. Even what Regina, Vicky and Zelena had done, while perhaps more extreme and targeted, wasn't new. Emma had always been different, someone whose mind worked in alternative ways and, as such, some people couldn't understand her. Children in particular had a mean streak when it came to anyone they saw as 'other'.
Yes, Emma could deal with being bullied. She hated it and didn't accept the way society stigmatised those who were not 'normal', but she could process those events and separate the cruel actions and words from who she was. It had taken time, but she learned how to not let bullies hurt her.
But that night, those few minutes when it had just been her and Regina, alone in the dark, that was different. In fact, it was what had happened between them before Vicky and Zelena arrived which plagued Emma for years, not the subsequent gut-wrenching betrayal. Her whispered confession to Archie, barely a week after the incident had been tearful, her breath coming in harsh, ragged sobs. The moment of intimacy which she and her, up to then, nemesis had shared awoke emotions in Emma which she had never felt before.
Emma knew she was gay, had done since she was a young teen. But she had never felt intense, raw sexual attraction to anyone she knew beyond a television screen before that night. Sure, objectively she could recognise Regina's beauty but that aesthetic became irrelevant the moment the brunette and her group started to bully Emma. Which was why it was so confusing when her body reacted in such a way to Regina's kiss.
"Forget about it," Emma muttered to herself, walking quickly along one of the paths which crisscrossed Central Park. "Forget about that night."
But it was easier said than done. While Emma had indeed locked those emotions, that turmoil, away for years, she knew it would be difficult to do now she was seeing Regina every day, particularly because the woman appeared to have become impossibly more attractive.
For Emma to do her job, however, she had to be professional. She had to forget about that night; about the hurt and the confusion and the tingling low in her abdomen. She had to focus on what Regina needed from her in the moment. A safe, supportive environment. And that, Emma nodded to herself, was something she could provide.
One, two, three, four, five, pause. One, two, three, four, five, pause. Taking a deep breath, she turned on the spot and began to walk back to the woman and son whom she'd left in the middle of the park.
After about half an hour of kicking the ball back and forth, Henry declared he was hungry and abandoned the soccer ball to return to the mat. Regina followed, dribbling the ball between her feet before sitting down beside her son who had already started on an apple he had found in her handbag.
"Where's Emma?" Henry asked, realising for the first time that he and his mother were alone in the park.
"She went for a walk."
"Where are Amy and Rose?"
"They went to go and feed the ducks with their grandad," Regina explained.
"Can we go too? I like ducks. They look funny when they walk."
"Not today," Regina replied. "Amy and Rose are with their family, so it'll be nice for it just to be them and to have some quality time. Maybe we can feed the ducks next time we come."
"Will Dad come with us next time?"
Questions about Leo seemed to be coming up far too often for Regina's liking. Clearly Henry had either not understood or not accepted what his mother had told him so far. That was to be expected, Belle had assured her when they discussed it the day before. But telling and re-telling her son that his father was not going to be a feature of their lives was not an easy task. Regina readjusted herself on the blanket and handed Henry a juice carton before answering his query.
"Henry, it's just going to be you and me for a bit," Regina began. "We're going to live in New York and find you a great new school where you'll have lots of friends and I'm going to get a job and then we'll find a place to live together. Your dad isn't going to be around, at least for a while."
"Why can't Dad come and live in New York too? I bet he'd like feeding the ducks with me."
"Do you remember when I said your dad and I aren't going to live together any more because we didn't make each other happy?"
Henry nodded but followed it up with his own question. "Did he hit you?"
Regina stiffened at the casual words, eyes wide. "Wh- what?"
"When Dad isn't happy, he hits you, right? Like last week when I was bad at baseball, Dad wasn't happy with me, so he hit me. Is that why he doesn't want to live with us any more? Because we don't make him happy?"
Finding herself temporarily lost for words, Regina stared at her son before finding her voice again. "Henry, what your dad did last week was wrong. It wasn't your fault."
"Yeah but I was bad at baseball, so my team lost. I should have catched the ball."
Forcing herself not to correct the past tense verb, Regina pushed on. "Henry, no matter what you did, it is not right that your dad hurt you. Even if you do something really bad, that doesn't mean you get punished by being hit. It wasn't your dad who was unhappy at home; it was me."
"Were you unhappy because of Dad?"
"Yes," Regina replied honestly, unable and unwilling to lie. She didn't want her turn Leo into the devil but at the same time she knew that as a mother raising a son, she had a responsibility to teach Henry the right way to behave in a relationship. That also included learning what the wrong ways to behave were. "Your dad didn't make me happy and I don't think he was making you happy either. How did you feel when your dad hit you?"
"It hurt," Henry admitted, bottom lip starting to tremble at the memory.
"I'm sorry," Regina whispered, eyes sparkling with tears. "I'm sorry I didn't protect you. Your dad should never have hit you. There are other ways to deal with your anger and I don't want you to think that hitting and shouting is the right thing to do when something goes wrong. It isn't, ok? And what your dad did was not right."
"Is that why we came to New York? Because Dad hit me?"
Regina's heart shattered just a little more. The utter devastation on Henry's face when he believed it was his fault that his family had separated would remain in her mind forever.
"No, Henry. Never think that. You did nothing wrong," Regina said, placing her hands on his shoulders. "The truth is, I was the one who wanted to leave."
"Because Dad hit you too and made you sad?"
The boy had handed her the truth on a plate. All she had to do was confirm what he had said. Regina's internal struggle raged. To tell her son the truth and turn him against his father, or protect him from the ugly reality of their marriage and immortalise Leo as someone who had his wife and son ripped from him. She swallowed.
"Yes, Henry. He hit me too."
Thin arms wrapped themselves around Regina's neck, pulling her close. The brunette, unable to stop herself, broke down, tears streaming down her face at the compassion her son was displaying. Henry held her tighter, confused at the way his mother was shaking but seeming to understand she needed him to keep hugging her. He buried his small face against the soft skin of her neck, inhaling her familiar, comforting scent.
Neither of them noticed the shadow which fell across the picnic rug. "Hey, are you guys ok?" Emma's voice, soft with concern, floated across the warm spring air towards the embraced figures.
Henry's arms unwound from around his mother's neck and looked up at the blonde. "Hi Emma," he said, sounding woefully despondent for a six-year-old. "Mom is sad because Dad hit her like he hit me." The boy turned back to his mother and clumsily wiped the tears from her cheeks. Regina's heart, though aching, suddenly felt full to bursting with love for her son. How did she get so lucky to have such a sweet, considerate little boy?
Without a word, Emma sat back down on the rug and took a swig from some water, not wanting to interrupt the moment. Once Henry had finished wiping his mother's tear tracks, he shuffled off her lap and helped himself to his iPad which he'd spotted in the bag while searching for some food. He then lay down on his front, turned it on, and disappeared into the screen.
"So, now you know, I guess," Regina sniffed, wiping her nose with a tissue.
"I'm sorry," Emma offered. "Are you sure you don't need a doctor to come and check your ribs?" She hadn't forgotten about the pain which she had seen on the brunette's face when she moved that first day. Her assumption of how the injury occurred, while she wished it hadn't, had been proven correct.
"No, they're fine," Regina insisted. "They're getting better every day."
"And Henry?"
"He's fine. I mean, physically fine. Psychologically, who knows." Regina glanced at her son. She knew it was foolish to talk so frankly with the boy less than two foot away but she also knew that when her son was immersed in his iPad, Mount Vesuvius could erupt right next to him without his knowledge. "I didn't mean to tell him, by the way. He asked me and I just didn't lie. Is that ok?"
"Yes," Emma nodded. "If he was already aware of the violence, then talking about it is probably healthy. Did you talk to Belle about how you were going to approach this subject in any detail?"
"Yes, a bit," Regina nodded. "In fact, it feels like all I've been doing since I arrived is talking. To Ruby, to you, to Belle. I just want to forget about what happened and move on."
"I understand that and it will happen but you've got to lay the groundworks. It's important to address what happened so that you can come to terms with it and move on. Otherwise you'll always be stuck in the past."
"Is that what you did with what happened between us?"
Emma's eyes narrowed slightly. "Regina, I told you. We're not talking about our past. I'm your counsellor, nothing more."
"I know but -"
"No," Emma said firmly, unable to allow Regina to pull her back to that space, not after the thirty minutes she had just taken to clear her head. "No buts. This is a professional relationship. If you keep trying to talk to me about this, I'm going to have to reassign you a different counsellor."
Regina wanted to argue but knew there was no point, not in the mindset which Emma had placed upon herself. She also knew that whatever was between she and Emma was anything but professional. Sure, Emma was acting as the woman's counsellor and Regina and Henry were staying in her shelter. But beneath the surface bubbled emotions which were nothing to do with their current situation. Those emotions, however, were not aligned. It was evident that the blonde, justifiably, felt anger and hurt towards Regina. On the other hand, seeing the woman again after so long had reawakened any number of dormant emotions which she had forced to suppress for years.
The two women fell into an uncomfortable silence, accompanied by the faint tinny sound effects from Henry's iPad. Emma pulled out her cell and shot a quick text to Mulan to ask how everything was going. Regina forced herself not to watch Emma, knowing if she was caught with the expression she knew adorned her features the blonde would admonish her.
She turned her attention to her son, reaching out to touch the back of his neck which looked a little pink from the sun. Rummaging through her bag, she found the sunscreen and applied it, Henry half-heartedly wriggling away.
"You're a good mom."
Regina turned towards the woman beside her at the murmured compliment, unaware that her actions had been watched.
"Um, thanks," Regina said, not feeling like the comment was deserved.
"Honestly," Emma pressed, knowing exactly what was going through Regina's head. She'd seen mothers like her before, filled with self-doubt at the decision they'd made. "You're doing what is right for Henry and for yourself. He's safe and he knows he's loved. What more could he want?"
"A father?"
Even as she said it, the words felt bitter on her tongue. She wasn't someone who believed a child needed to be brought up with a mother and a father. And yet, for the first six years of Henry's life, that traditional familial unit was what he had known. Now, he had been ripped away from his whole world, part of which was his father. Regina knew Leo hadn't been a good dad and she didn't regret her decision. But it was still a huge change to her son's circumstances which she had inflicted and would now have to not only come to terms with but also deal with the consequences.
"You know blood doesn't make a family. But you're his mother. You're giving him everything he needs right now and Belle and I will be here to support you moving forwards. It's not going to be easy but I can promise you it's the right path to take. You've done the hardest part. You left. Now you can get on with starting fresh."
"How?" Regina asked. "I don't even know where to begin."
"We'll help," Emma smiled. "You're bright and you have a college degree, right?"
"Yes," Regina nodded, ignoring the fact that Emma was unconsciously referencing their past history by discussing her education. "But I've never really worked."
"That's ok. We'll find somewhere suitable with a job that fits your skills and experience. Honestly, Regina, everything is going to be ok. One of my favourite parts of my job is getting people set up with their new life. It's a blank slate, something on which you can make your mark. Whatever you want, you can have, and I can help you make those dreams come true."
Regina watched as Emma's eyes lit up with excitement and positivity. It was so different, so refreshing from the girl she had once known. And then she was abruptly reminded of one of the primary reasons why teenage Emma had been a comparative shell of her current self. Regina. She was responsible. Her gut twisted again, guilt clawing at her insides.
I need to talk about this, Regina thought to herself. In that moment, she knew that she wasn't going to be able to work alongside Emma in any sort of productive manner if she didn't address their past. If Emma was going to help her get her future back on track, Regina needed to face their history. Not with Emma. No, the blonde had made that clear and Regina recognised now that pushing her would be not only unwise but also unfair. Emma was coping far better than Regina with their past and Regina didn't have the right to drag Emma down.
Belle was the obvious answer to her dilemma and Regina resolved to organise a meeting with the psychologist the following week to discuss the storm of emotions currently flowing through her veins.
I'm not over her, Regina mused, as she watched Emma lie back down on the mat and close her eyes, face towards the warm New York spring sun.