(Trigger warning for mentions of rape and panic attack!)
'Can I ask what you're writing about?'
Honestly, Regina's intention had been to leave Emma Swan to her writing. But she was just so curious at the way Emma completely seemed to disappear when she looked at her laptop screen and her fingers started clacking away. Regina was intrigued by the way Emma's lips silently formed the words. She was fascinated with the way her green eyes gleamed and how she sometimes grinned to herself like she had just written something particularly brilliant. So Regina had not been able to contain her curiosity. She simply HAD to write Emma a note. And hope that Emma Swan wasn't bothered by the interruption.
Emma clacked a bit more on her laptop. Then she looked at Regina, grinned and went: "sure." She adjusted a bit. Folded her long legs more comfortably. "I'm writing fairytales. Or, twisted fairy tales. I call them 'Twisted Endings'. Not very original, I know, but it was the only thing I could come up with."
If Henry was here to hear this, he surely would have exploded with happiness right on the spot. Or possibly attached himself to Emma Swan's back like a little monkey. He'd ask question after question about the fairy tales, and Emma would never get a moment's peace. Regina thought to herself that she would have to tell him about this when she arrived at Vancouver Station. That the woman she had shared a train-cabin with, had been writing fairytales. Regina was definitely intrigued. Very much so. She had met many people who worked on their debut novel, but she had not met someone who wrote fairy tales. There was a first time for everything. Regina certainly wanted to know more. But at the same time, she was anxious about bothering Emma. So she combined that in the next note she wrote: 'Twisted fairy tales? That sounds interesting. Can I know more about it, or should I stop bothering you?' she pushed the note towards Emma with a slight smile in an attempt to apologize for her many questions.
"You're not bothering me at all," Emma quickly assured after having read the note. She flashed Regina another one of those friendly smiles. "I've loved reading fairy tales ever since I was a kid, and I've always loved writing too, so one day I just thought: why not combine that? As soon as the thought had entered my mind, I couldn't stop thinking about it, so one night I just sat down and began outlining my ideas. What if Sleeping Beauty actually had Kleine Levin syndrome and entered a dream world when she fell asleep? What if Cinderella was a runaway in the modern world? What if Hansel and Gretel never was left in the woods by their father? What if they were actually running away from an abusive home, and the so-called witch who found them actually was good?" she chuckled a bit awkwardly and rubbed the back of her neck slightly. "Maybe it's just a pipe dream, but I can't stop writing, and either way it's nice to have something to keep me occupied."
A pipe dream? Regina almost wanted to scold this young woman for believing so little in herself. If her stories were just half as remarkable as what she was describing, Regina couldn't see why it shouldn't come true. 'Dream big. Always dream big'. That was what Regina always said to her students. But Emma Swan was not her student. She was essentially a stranger. And if Regina started to shower her with advises or overly enthusiastic encouragement, there was a chance that Emma would get rightfully spooked. Regina knew she had to tone it down a bit. And she tried her best in the next note she wrote for the blonde: 'Why would it be a pipe dream? It sounds very interesting.' There. Encouraging without sounding too overly enthusiastic. She pushed the note towards Emma and let it join the other two notes.
Emma chuckled after having read the note. "Thanks. If I ever get anything published, you'll get a free copy."
Regina scowled slightly as she quickly scrawled down another message: 'Oh no, no free copies. I'll buy your book, just like everyone else.' She almost felt a bit firm as she pushed the note across the table.
Emma let out a sound that could almost have been a snort. "Thanks, but I don't think it'll ever become a book."
Regina leaned slightly forward and raised an eyebrow, hoping that Emma would be able to understand the silent question. Why?
And Emma did. "Well," she said, dragging out the word and appearing to be chewing on the inside of her cheek for a moment before answering: "I guess I'm just a pessimist, and no one has ever really... encouraged me to keep writing. More the opposite, actually."
Regina felt a twinge of anger as she grabbed another note and began writing on it. Emma had looked so disheartened. So discouraged. Regina almost felt angry on her behalf, and she looked down upon the note she had just finished. 'I'm sorry to hear that, creativity should be applauded and encouraged. Not the opposite. Keep writing your stories and ignore the people who tries to bring you down. I'm sure you'll succeed.' Regina did not care if this was too enthusiastic. She could sense that Emma needed enthusiasm and cheering on. She gently pushed the note towards the blonde.
Emma bowed her head. Her green eyes lingered on the written words for a moment. Then she lifted her head and smiled at Regina. "Thanks. That's really nice of you."
Regina was quick to tear another note off the stack. She scribbled and scribbled as an idea popped into her mind, and reminded herself to slow down. Otherwise her handwriting would look clumsy. And her handwriting was all she had now. The only way of expressing herself. She squinted slightly as she looked at the message and checked it for spelling errors. 'my friend Malena owns Dragon Publishing based in Vancouver. She specializes in books that falls a bit outside the usual categories. Perhaps you could reach out to her once you've finished your book? Mal is a bit of an "ice queen" on the outside, but don't let that scare you off. She's actually really great.'
She felt a twinge of sadness when she thought about Malena and how long it had been since they last saw one another.
But Regina could not figure out how she was supposed to be around her old friend now. Talking had been what they did. They had bantered and laughed together, and now Regina could not do either of those things. She could barely function, really. She was a shadow of herself. And Malena did not deserve that. She did not deserve to see Regina in such poor condition. She had wanted to visit Regina when she was in the hospital as well, but Regina had refused to see her. Not until she got better. Way better. Once she stopped being so afraid of everything.
Regina snapped out of it and slid the note towards Emma. No more getting lost in her own head. That kind of thing was dangerous.
Emma looked down at the note. Then she looked up at Regina. Eyes wide and mouth slightly agape, and Regina immediately grew concerned. Had she overstepped? Been too overly enthusiastic when it came to helping a stranger? Was Emma Swan now spooked because of her overly friendly advices? Oh no. That was not the intention at all. Regina's heart sank. It was so hard to get your point across in the right way when you couldn't talk.
"Are you some sort of fairy godmother?" Emma blurted.
Regina blinked. A fairy godmother? Oh. Ohh! Emma was not spooked by her suggestion. She was happy. And now Regina was too. She had never been called a fairy godmother by anyone before. She felt that odd, silent amusement bubble in her chest and slither past her broken vocal cords to wrap onto her shoulders and make them shake slightly in silent laughter. Then she shook her head. No, she was not a fairy godmother by any means. She just wanted to help.
"I'm starting to think that you are," Emma gently argued and snickered. "First you recommend me a place I can live, and then you casually mention that your friend just so happens to own a publishing house who could be interested in my book. My money is still on the fairy godmother thing."
Regina smiled and shook her head. Emma Swan had such an interesting, colorful language. Young and adult mixed. It was highly entertaining.
"What about you?" Emma asked curiously, blonde hair falling down on either side of her face as she leaned forward slightly. "What do you do? I mean, apart from making people's wishes come true?"
Regina could literally feel the smile falter as she grabbed a new note. Her old job as a literature professor. God, how she missed that. The universe. She missed the coffee breaks with her colleagues. She missed popping down to the impressive library. And most of all, she missed teaching. She missed the identity she'd had during her time as Professor Mills. Her job had been her way of escaping. As a university professor, she had been respected. People had listened to her. Had reflected over the things she said. A stark contrast to her home-life where she had not been respected. Not listened to. And where Killian had not reflected over the things she had said to him. At her job, she had been able to pretend that she was still the same old Regina. The professor who was always in control over everything. What a lie. What a double life she had lived. During her thought process, she had written: 'I was a professor in English literature at the Université de Montréal.' A very short note it had taken her far too long to write, but oh well. She pushed the note towards Emma.
Emma read the note and then looked up at her. Regina was fairly certain she saw something in the blonde's eyes. Awe. Wonder. Regina's chest tightened as she bowed her head to write another note. She felt like she had to elaborate in some kind of way. 'I quit my job a while back, but maybe I'll find something else to do in Vancouver.' She silently scoffed to herself as she presented Emma with the note. She HAD to find something else to do in Vancouver. The compensation Killian had been sentenced to pay her could have kept her afloat for a while, but Regina had plain refused to receive his money. She had already been depending on him in one way.
No way in hell was she going to live off his money.
Live off the money of the man who had attacked her and nearly choked her to death?! Absolutely not.
Regina would rather die than spending as much as a dime of his money.
Her lawyers had not tried to argue with her when she firmly rejected the compensation. Instead they had called her a brave woman.
It had nothing to do with bravery. But it had everything to do with being able to look herself in the eye.
It had to do with pride.
She would do fine. She had earned a fair chunk of money as her time as a professor, and should things get tight, she still had the inheritance from her father.
Yes.
She and Henry would manage on their own.
They did not need money that was soaked in her blood.
"Sounds like a good plan," Emma said softly and brought Regina back to reality.
Regina nodded slightly and watched as Emma stuffed her laptop away in a bag under her seat. Then she looked at Regina. "I'm thinking about heading out and getting some dinner. Do you wanna come along?"
Regina nodded and rose from her seat. She was grateful for being pulled out of her thoughts which had been straying towards a dark path. She was very fortunate to share a train-cabin with such a chatty woman. Emma Swan was a wonderful distraction for someone with a clouded mind and dark thoughts looming just below the surface.
Regina straightened her posture as they walked towards the dining area. Now was not the time for thinking. It was time for dinner...
The smile soon returned to Regina's lips. Because of what Emma Swan was ordering for dinner. Crispy chicken drumsticks and French fries. Someone was hungry.
Regina was only slightly envious. Her throat had started acting up again, and she knew that she had to be a little careful with TOO much solid food. So when the waiter turned his attention to her and asked: "and what can I get for you, ma'am?", Regina pointed to the French onion soup.
"French onion soup?" the waiter asked aloud as to clarify it.
Regina tried not to frown as she nodded.
"The portions are very small," the waiter told her. "How about you chose the soup as a starter and then order something else as your main course? We've got a special offer on sushi tonight-"
Regina silenced him by shaking her head firmly and pointed to the French onion soup again. Why couldn't he just go with it instead of rambling? She couldn't eat sushi tonight!
"Just French onion soup?" he asked again, clearly taken slightly aback by her rapid headshaking.
Regina tried not to gnash her teeth as she nodded in confirmation.
"Alright, Ma'am," the waiter finally surrendered. "And what can I get you to drink?"
Regina pointed to the first choice. Water.
"Water?" The waiter asked her.
Regina's eyebrows knitted together as she wondered if he thought she was dense. Or maybe HE was a bit dense. She nodded in confirmation.
"Very well. Coming right up," he said and then turned to Emma: "and your fried chicken as well, miss."
"Sounds good," Emma said lightly and flashed him a slight smile.
Regina instantaneously felt guilty. Emma Swan was definitely the bigger person here. Why did that damn waiter have to interrogate her like that? True, he was just doing his job, but nonetheless... Why did he have to make such a big fuss about it? Regina didn't quite understand that. Perhaps he had thought that she was deaf. It wouldn't have been the first time someone assumed that. And it wasn't a problem when people mistook her silence for deafness. Only when they started signing to her and Regina had no idea what they were trying to say. She wasn't all that well-versed in using Sign Language. Another thing she would have to work on when she got back to Vancouver.
After a moment or so, Regina's glass of water and Emma's beer arrived. Regina was slightly envious at that. Not that she was that much of a beer drinker, really, but she did miss the taste of alcohol. The glass of wine she'd had the other night was the first drink she'd had ever since landing herself in the hospital. Alcohol did not mix well with her medicine.
"Cheers," Emma smiled as she lifted her glass.
Regina returned the smile and lifted her glass of water so she could clink it with Emma's.
They were sipping their respective drinks when Regina picked up on a low buzzing sound. It only took her a few moments to figure out that the sound came from Emma's cellphone. It was ringing.
"Just ignore it," Emma said when picking up on the sound. She chuckled. "It's not anyone I want to talk to anyway."
Regina nodded, but she couldn't help to feel confused.
It must have been reflected in her expression, for Emma leaned forward slightly to elaborated: "I'm sort of running away from the person who keeps calling me."
Regina felt her eyebrow shoot towards her hairline. Her heart started thudding uncomfortably in her chest. Who was Emma Swan running away from? Was she being hunted by someone? An ex-boyfriend? Now Regina's throat tightened uncomfortably, and she had the urge to rip the scarf away and take deep, full breaths. Had Emma been in the same situation as her? Regina suddenly found herself scanning every inch of Emma's face and what was visible of her arms. She felt almost a bit frantic as she scanned Emma's skin to see if she had any bruises anywhere. Regina knew exactly how to spot a bruise. Including those that were made in places you wouldn't normally look at.
"Don't worry," Emma said quickly and still leaning forward slightly. "I'm not in any danger. I'm just trying to get away from an irritating person. That's all."
Oh. Regina's shoulders loosened some. But she still wasn't completely convinced. She also knew that there were many types of lies one could use to cover for the truth. A ball to the face in a school yard.
It was so silly, really. I didn't even see it before it was too late.
An unfortunate incident with an open cupboard.
It was my fault, really. I was distracted.
A clumsy encounter with slippery tiles in the bathroom.
It was so stupid. I reached for the shampoo, and down I went.
Or perhaps even a freak car accident in which the seatbelt ended up wrapped around your neck.
He was drunk driving. That was why it went so wrong.
"I'm fine," Emma assured, pulling Regina out of her thoughts once more. "I really am. Please don't worry about me."
Regina shook her head. She too had said those damn five words one too many times over the past two years. She had lied through her teeth again and again because the truth was too terrible to say out loud. And if she later discovered that Emma Swan had been in a similar situation and she had not done anything to prevent it... Well, Regina was not sure she could live with herself. She grabbed a new note and did her best to write down her concerns without going overboard. 'You've just told me that you're running away from a person who keeps calling you, and you don't me to worry about you?' that was definitely to simplify it, but it was the best she could do without going into too many details. She pushed the note towards Emma.
To her utmost surprise, Emma chuckled after having read the note. "Yeah, that's pretty much what I'm saying," she said lightly, and Regina immediately deduced that Emma Swan used humor to deal with difficult situations. Oh yes, Regina couldn't count the times she too had put on a fake smile to assure her son and sister that everything was just fine and dandy. However, she refused to play along on this pretend game. She raised an eyebrow in skepticism over what Emma had just said.
"Seriously, don't worry," Emma said earnestly and not chuckling anymore. "I'm fine. I just need to get away from Toronto. That's all."
Regina decided to let it be with that. For whatever reason, she believed what Emma said, and she nodded slowly. Then she sought solace in her glass of water. Raised it and took a mouthful of the liquid. Ouch. Swallowing hurt. A lot. She had been tensing her throat. She sat her glass of water down abruptly and brought a fist to her mouth as she tried to clear her throat in that special way that would not pull at the stiches under the scarf.
Clang.
Regina jumped a little in her chair. She still wasn't very good at coping with loud sounds. They so often reminded her of the sound of a bedroom door being flung open. Or heavy boots coming up the stairs. Now she quickly looked around to locate the source of the sound.
"Shit. Sorry," Emma apologized as she ducked under the table to retrieve something. A few seconds she popped up again. With her fork in hand.
Oh. Regina's shoulders immediately unclenched again. Just a fork. How silly of her to get so jumpy because of a fork. A slight smile tugged at her lips. Sometimes you just had to laugh at yourself.
"I'm perpetually clumsy," Emma told her and grimaced slightly.
Perpetually. Once again, Regina was amused. What an interesting language Emma had. Sometimes she almost reminded Regina of one of her students. Former students.
Emma started chit-chatting about the children she was sure had to be dosed up on sugar, and Regina found it to be very entertaining to listen to. It sounded very much like Miss Swan hadn't had a lot to do with children in her life. Regina thought to herself that Henry never would have behaved in this horrendous way. Not even when he was younger. Even as a baby, he was always fairly calm. And with those deep, soulful eyes he had inherited from both his mother and grandfather. Thinking about her son made Regina's heart clench a little. She missed him. But that was good. She was relieved to feel that way. Relieved that she was looking forward to taking him in her arms when there had been a point not too many months ago where she had been unable to.
Her musings were interrupted when the waiter arrived with their food. Soup for Regina and chicken drumsticks and French fries for Emma.
"Bon Appetit," the waiter said in a rather rusty French accent, and as soon as he'd left, Regina and Emma shared amused glances over that.
It did not take many seconds before Emma dug into her food with vigor. Regina wondered if Emma was 'perpetually' hungry too, or if there was another reason behind the way she threw the food down like she was afraid that someone would take it away from her.
Regina too began to eat. And the first mouthful of onion soup was actually so much better than what she had expected. This was quite good soup, really. So much better than it looked. How delightful.
But what was not so delightful, was the way her throat suddenly cramped without warning. Regina had to put her spoon down abruptly and reach for her purse. As discreetly as she possibly could, she unzipped it, reached within it, and found the bottle of pills. As she with some trouble caught a pill between her thumb and index finger, she glanced discreetly at Emma. She did not want to cause a scene. She did not want to spoil the lighthearted mood by showing signs of being unwell.
But Emma appeared to be fully engaged with her supper. Good. That was good. Regina did not want to make her worried. There was no reason for that at all. She was fine. Of course she was. She was completely alright. Nothing to worry about at all.
Later, when the lights in the train dimmed, Regina gathered that it was time to head back to her sleep compartment. It was time to take the last pill for the night. So she wrote Emma a note and told her that she would be retiring for the night now.
"Alright," Emma said and for some reason sounded a little down. "Good night then. Sleep well."
Regina offered a smile and then rose from her seat and walked down the hallway. She was fading, but she had managed to stay up thirty minutes later than yesterday. She considered that to be a victory of sorts. A sign that her old strength was slowly coming back. At least that was what Regina was hoping.
Regina paid a visit to the bathroom to brush her teeth and perform her usual bedtime routine before retiring for the night. When she had taken care of things in the bathroom, she continued down the hallway and unlocked the door to the sleep compartment. She slipped inside and felt utterly relieved when seeing her bed waiting for her. Laying down would be glorious.
But before she could do that, there was one more thing she needed to do. Text her son and tell him goodnight. This was his bedtime too. It did not take long before she received a sweet: 'goodnight mom! See you soon :D I really miss you, but I've had so much fun with aunt Z today! We had pizza for dinner and chocolate cake for dessert, but aunt Z told me not to tell you that ;)'
Regina smiled despite the crimes her sister had committed food-wise. She could live with her son eating pizza and chocolate cake one night if it meant that he was happy. That was the only thing that mattered to her. His happiness. 'That sounds wonderful, my little prince. I'm so happy to hear you had a good night. Did you and aunt Z watch a movie too?'
The response came almost immediately. 'Yeah, we watched Harry Potter & The Prisoner of Azkaban! :D'
Regina texted back, telling her son that that too sounded wonderful, but now she was frowning slightly. Wasn't Henry much too young to watch Harry Potter & The Prisoner of Azkaban? There was some pretty scary scenes in that movie. The Dementors for instance. And the scenes that were not directly scary but still had impact. The scene where Harry hears his mother scream for mercy, for instance. Perhaps that hit a little too close to home. Regina's frown deepened as she quickly sent her son another text: 'and did you like the movie, sweetheart?'
'Yeah, it was awesome! :D'
Oh. Okay then. Perhaps Regina would not text her sister then. Perhaps she would accept that her son had a good time tonight and wasn't scared of the movie. Perhaps she should stop looking for hidden ghosts.
'I'm happy to hear that, sweetie. But please let your aunt pick the next movie, okay?' it had to be Henry's suggestion to watch Harry Potter. Zelena would have picked a Disney movie. And Regina would have preferred that.
'Ooookay mom :P'
Regina smiled to herself. That little rascal was giving her cheek. She could not wait to hold him in her arms again. 'Goodnight, sweetheart. Sleep well! I love you to the moon and back.'
'I love you too, mom! Lots!'
Regina smiled as she put her phone away and put on her pajamas. Henry had had a good night full of laughter and pizza and chips. That was the only thing that mattered. As long as she knew that, she could do anything. Including changing the bandage on her throat. Regina squared her shoulders as she sanitized her hands and slipped on the latex gloves she had received from the hospital. Then she peeled the bandage away for the first time. Then the plaster. She could do this. Had to do this.
Regina twisted her head slightly. Looked down to glance at the wound. The stiches looked fine, but it still made the breath hitch in her throat. So this was what it looked like now. That terrible, broad red line on her throat. That horrible dent where the belt buckle had punctuated her skin again and again. She slowly rose from the edge of the bed and walked over to the little mirror on the door. When she was standing in front of it, she pushed her hair back slightly so she could see how bad it was.
And it was bad. A lump formed in her throat as she looked at marred skin. This was how she looked like now. This was what he had done to her. Disfigured her. For life. She had to live with this for the rest of her life. Be the living proof of what he had done to her that night.
Regina lowered the collar on her pajamas.
Blinked as tears started to form.
How was she ever supposed to feel good about herself?
There had been a time where she enjoyed wearing lowcut blouses and tops.
There had been a time where she had liked to wear necklaces to accentuate her neck. But never again.
If she went out without her scarf, people would look at her.
They would look at her throat and wonder what on earth had happened to her.
And Regina would be a walking victim all over again.
An abused woman and nothing more.
Regina turned her back on her reflection and walked back to the bed where she had her little box full of supplies from the hospital. Her movements were angry as she unscrewed the lid on the bottle that held the lotion, but she of course made sure to be careful as she rubbed the soothing cream into the area around the stiches in her throat. She sat down on the bed and waited for a couple of minutes until the cream had dried. Then she found a new plaster and carefully placed it on the wound. Patted the edges to make sure nothing was crinkling. Then the bandage followed suit. That was not so difficult. She just had to take one of the gauze pads and place it over the wound. Cut a few pieces of the medical tape and place it at the edges of the gauze to make sure it did not slide around. There. Now she was done. She had managed to change her bandage on her own.
Regina's fingers squeezed around the bottle of cream. She fiddled with the lid to make sure it was properly tightened. After having made sure that it was, she lifted the bottle and threw it across the room without any hesitation. It collided with the wall with a sharp thud and then landed on the floor. When she couldn't yell or cry about how she looked, at least she could throw things against the wall still.
As she picked up the bottle and put it back in her suitcase, Regina felt a little childish. Willed herself to calm down as she crawled into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. Now she just had to relax and go to sleep. She was fine...
'She was on the floor. Her clothes were torn. The little sharp edges from the rug was digging into her back. He was on top of her. Inside her. Forcing the air out of her lungs, tearing her apart with every sharp jerk of his hips. Her body moved with his in a limp, detached way. She wasn't here. She was walking hand in hand with Henry, eating ice cream on a sunny day. He was smiling at her. Laughing to her. Squeezing her hand.
But that is not what was happening. He was still on top of her. Pinning her down with his body. Squashing her hands with his own to keep them in place.
Regina whimpered. "Stop. You're hurting me! Please, stop, Killian!"
"Shut up!" he grunted. "You bitch!" he hitched his hips a little sharper. "Thought you could just leave me, did you? You stupid bitch!"
"I promise I won't leave you!" Regina pleaded. "I promise! I'll stay right here with you, Killian, just stop! Please!"
"Stop?" he laughed cruelly in her ear. Taunted her: "you like this!"
"No, please, I-"
"Shut up! You stupid bitch!" he interrupted, spit following his outburst and landing on her face. "You like it! Say you like it! Or I'll kill that precious boy of yours!"
"I like it," Regina whispered as tears fell from her eyes.
"Louder, you slut!"
"I like it!" Regina screamed, breath catching in her throat as he hitched his hips sharper, hurting her deeper. She could feel the blood trickle down her thighs. He was enjoying her pain.
Killian roared with laughter in her ear. "That's right!" he sneered. "You like this! Don't you think I know that, you little bitch? I know exactly what you like! What you deserve!"
Regina whimpered and felt how she slowly was leaving her body. Soaring up under the ceiling and watching Killian do this to her. She was only vaguely aware of his hands loosening their grip as he approached his release. But something inside her told her this was her chance, and in one sharp jerk, she pulled her hands out of his grasp. Hiked her knee up and then jammed it at his crotch with as much force as she possibly could muster.
He roared in pain much like he had when her ring had scraped the skin on his cheek a moment ago, but before she could even catch her breath, he was grabbing her by the hair. Pulling her up and wrapping his belt around her neck.
"You shouldn't have done that, you little whore," he sneers. "Now I'm going to kill you. And then I'm going after precious little Henry. What do you think he'll say when he finds out what I did to his Mummy, hmm?"
Regina desperately clawed at the belt, but he was just too strong. Too strong...'
Regina sat bold upright in bed as pulled by a string. The breath exploded out of her mouth in one jerked gasp. Her heart was hammering in her chest. Slamming against her ribcage like the organ was trying to force its way out of her body. Her head was full of ghosts and her sleep compartment was full of shadows. She scrabbled blindly for a moment before succeeding in switching on the lights. Her eyes started to water immediately, but the bright light helped a little. The shadows disappeared. Killian was not here. Not here, not here, not here. He was NOT looming in the corner and smirking at her. And she was NOT back on the bedroom floor. He was NOT on top of her. He was NOT choking her with the belt.
But he HAD been on top of her.
He HAD brutally raped her.
And he HAD wrapped that belt around her throat and tightened it.
He HAD nearly choked her to death.
Bile rose in her throat as her palms dampened.
Her heart was beating faster and faster.
Regina knew exactly what was coming now.
A panic attack.
The walls in the sleep compartment shrunk around her.
She needed to get out of here immediately!
In one swift movement, Regina was out of bed, had ripped the door open, and was running towards the bathroom.
There was nobody standing in line when Regina came tumbling down the hallway. She stumbled into the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind her. Then she fell to her knees in front of the toilet. She knew that she wasn't supposed to throw up because of the stiches. She could risk ripping the wound open. And not to mention the bile and what kind of effect that would have on everything. She tried to will herself not to get sick, but she still ended up dry heaving over the toilet a few times. Then she rose on legs that trembled under her. Grabbed onto the sink for support. Tried to take deep and steady breaths. In through her nose and out through her nose. She could do this. In and out. Nice and easy. She was sweating and freezing at the same time. Her knees were trembling violently underneath her. The panic attack made her body betray her completely.
Regina looked at her reflection in the small mirror. She looked like a crazy person with her unkept hair and wild and slightly red eyes. Pale cheeks.
This was what Killian had done to her.
This was what he was STILL doing to her.
It didn't matter that he was in prison.
Every time she had a flashback or a nightmare, it was like he was raping her all over again.
A few minutes of terror had become a lifetime of horror.
She would never be able to erase this memory from her mind.
She would always be able to remember what he had done to her.
Always.
She switched on the water.
Scooped up a handful of it and drank it.
Hoped that it would make her throat feel less tight.
It did not.
Swallowing just made it worse.
It hurt so much because she had dry-heaved over the toilet.
She was not bleeding from the stiches, but the effect of the painkiller she took before bedtime was completely gone.
Regina bowed her head over the sink and cried silently.
Silently.
Killian had vowed to shut her up, and that was exactly what he had done.
No, he hadn't killed her that night, but he might as well have.
Because that was how she felt.
Dead inside.
A shell of a human being.
Her breath sped up again.
Quick, rapid intakes of breath.
She was starting to feel lightheaded, but she could not control her breathing right now.
She pressed a fist against her mouth and sniffled.
"Hello?"
For the second time in one night, Regina was so horribly frightened that she jumped, and a new flood of tears streamed down her cheeks. For a brief moment, she imagined that it was Killian who had broken out of prison and was about to kick down the door to the bathroom...
"Is everything okay?"
The image of Killian busting down the door dissolved when Regina recognized the voice. It was Emma Swan. She held her breath and blinked, tried to compose herself just a little.
There was a gentle knock on the bathroom door. Then Emma's voice: "Look, I'm not trying to butt in or anything, but are you alright? If you're sick, I can fetch a doctor for you."
A doctor.
Regina's eyes stung once more. No doctor would ever be able to fix her. She was too broken. Too messed up. She would never become a functioning human being again. She stuck her hands under the tap and splashed some cold water onto her cheeks. Then she switched off the water. Turned around and ripped the door open with far more force than she normally would have used.
Emma Swan in sweatpants and tanktop yelped and stumbled backwards. "Regina? Is everything alri-"
Regina did not stay long enough to hear the rest of the sentence. Instead she pushed past Emma and nearly throttled her in her eagerness to get away. She felt like she was going to faint. She needed her bed. She needed to sleep.
She made it safely back to her sleep-compartment. Locked the door and collapsed on the bed without switching off the lights. Her heart was slowing down, and she was generally starting to feel a little calmer. And guilty. What she just had done to Emma was unforgiveable. Emma had treated her with nothing but kindness. And this was how Regina repaid her? By nearly shoving her out of the way?
Regina knew that she should go back and apologize, but she was just so tired now. Her eyelids kept sliding shut. But tomorrow. Tomorrow she would make it up to Emma. She would apologize. Sincerely. But for right now...
Regina's hand went limp and she surrendered to the heaviness surrounding her. She slept with the lights on that night...
She was exhausted and had a headache when she woke up early the next morning. But that did not matter. She had things to do. She started by brushing her teeth and hair, do her makeup and get dressed. Black pencil skirt. Red silk blouse. Black scarf tied around her neck. Now she almost looked like herself. And she felt slightly better. She didn't have any more nightmares after the panic attack. She just slept.
But the guilty conscience lingered, though. Regina still wanted to make up for her horrid behavior last night. So she found the post-it notes she had stuffed into her purse last night and wrote a message for Emma: 'Emma, I'm really sorry about what happened. What you witnessed last night was a panic attack. I've had a few of them ever since my accident, I honestly thought they were getting better. But obviously, not entirely. I'm so sorry for throttling past you like that. You were just acting like any concerned person would. I do hope you can forgive me for being so brusque with you.' First part of her apology. The second part was still in the making.
Regina left the sleep-compartment and went down the hallway. She reached the train-cabin she shared with Emma. It was empty. Regina left the post-it message on Emma's seat and then continued onwards to the dining area. What was it that Emma liked for breakfast? Ah yes. Waffles covered in maple syrup. And coffee. Black coffee.
Regina found just that in the dining area. She placed the lot on a tray and then walked back to the train-cabin.
Emma was there now. She was holding the note. Reading it. Regina felt a twinge of anxiety. Suppose Emma would not accept her apology? Perhaps Regina had ruined a friendship before it could even blossom properly.
Emma turned around, eyes widening slightly as she looked at Regina and the tray she was holding.
Regina flashed her a hesitant smile and lifted the tray slightly. A silent apology. And peace offering. I am sorry. I am so sorry. If I could go back and change things, I would. I did not mean to push past you last night. I truly am sorry.
"Thanks," Emma said lightly. "But you didn't have to do that."
Regina's eyes flickered slightly as she looked from the note and back to Emma. Was she brushing her apology aside? That couldn't be good. Regina felt her mouth twist slightly.
"There's no harm done, Regina," Emma said softly. "It's okay. Really."
Regina raised an eyebrow. Was it though? Was it really? She gently sat the tray down on the table between them.
Emma was quick to sit down. She flashed Regina a beaming smile and then took a bite of the waffle. Went 'mmmm!'.
Regina's shoulders unclenched. Emma did not hate her. She had clearly forgiven her. Relieved, Regina sat down on the opposite seat. She supposed she should go and find some breakfast for herself, but she did not have much of an appetite right now. That always happened after a panic attack. She quickly decided not to tell Zelena about it. There was no harm done. She was okay now. And she would rather go home and tell Zelena a story of success. And not a story of how Killian Jones had ended up being on the train with her...
To Be Continued...