First meetings.

TW: implied child abuse.

Chapter Two: Saviour

Thirteen years earlier…

Phoenix AZ

The first time she laid eyes on Emma Swan, Regina Mills was out shopping with her mother. Cora Mills had insisted on dragging her away from her studies to buy her a new dress for a charity function she had no intention of attending and, as they stood outside Chanel, her gaze wandered – falling on the sad figure of a child moving through the crowd of busy people.

She didn't know if it was the defeated, world-weary look on a face so young or the sunken cheeks and tatty hand-me-downs, but Regina couldn't bring herself to look away. Behind, her mother's voice droned on – likely complaining about having to resort to off-the-rack dresses because her daughter refused to make time to see their tailor. Whatever bee had made its way into her mother's bonnet this time, Regina knew it would be more of the same tedious vexations she'd heard a thousand times.

"Regina!" Cora's sharp tone cut through her thoughts, drawing her gaze. "Stop slouching and pay attention."

The young woman narrowly avoided rolling her eyes. "I am not a child, Mother."

"Then stop behaving like one. You've been petulant since I picked you up this morning," Mrs Mills scolded.

The words 'your driver picked me up' sat on the tip of Regina's tongue, but before they could trip off the end, she spotted a shift in the crowd and turned to see what was happening. Brown eyes focussed just in time to watch as an irate businessman pushed through the throng of people, jostling a woman and creating a domino effect of colliding bodies. Like slow motion, a small, thin figure flew between oblivious bodies, tripped over a wayward shoe and fell unerringly against Cora Mills.

Regina felt her heart stop for a second. She recovered quickly and stepped closer to offer a helping hand, but an arm fell like a steel barrier across her torso and she knew that the full weight of her mother's ire was about to come crashing down on the poor waif in front of them. She watched as a claw reached down, grabbed a fist-full of baggy shirt and dragged the girl to the tips of her toes.

The crowd had already moved on as if nothing had happened, but a pair of terrified, green eyes stared into the depths of hell and felt a short life flash before them. The girl squirmed but the grip tightened and a thin, red mouth parted to reveal rows of white veneers that looked as if they were hungry to take a bite out of something… or someone.

"How dare you try to steal from me, you filthy little street urchin!" Cora hissed through her perfect teeth. Her voice was low and she'd turned just enough that her fury was hidden behind the high collar of her coat.

The blonde figure shook her head frantically and tried to wriggle away again but it was futile. Her sunken, green eyes darted around for help and landed on the worried gaze of a young woman.

From somewhere deep within, Regina found the courage to grab her mother's arm. She knew the strength in the grip of those fingers, so she didn't try to pry them away, but the move surprised Mrs Mills enough that she broke from her captive to glare daggers at her daughter.

"Don't look at me like that, dear," Cora began as soon as she caught the distaste on Regina's face. "I know their tricks better than anyone." Steely eyes swivelled back to the child. "They pretend to bump into you and then take you for all you've got."

Regina kept her grip firm and her voice low as she responded. "She didn't 'bump' into anybody. Some idiot pushed through the crowd and she was knocked about before falling into you."

Mrs Mills scoffed. "You're naïve, Regina." Now that her attention was split, she caught the odd glance of alarm from people walking by and slowly drew back from the girl. She lowered the blonde back to solid ground and pretended to fuss over her crumpled clothes with a free hand.

"I saw it happen," Regina insisted. "The girl had nothing to do with it, Mother. Let her go."

With a huff and an air of inconvenience, Cora relented and drew her hands away from the child. Even as the distressed girl fled across the street, away from the crazy lady, Mrs Mills was more concerned with the imaginary dirt now under fingernails than with her conduct.

Regina's breathing returned to normal once her mother was no longer on the war-path, but she watched with furrowed brow until the girl was completely out of sight and for many days after, wished that she had done more to make sure she was ok.

Two weeks passed and Regina Mills found herself enjoying a rare break from lectures, assignments and her mother. It was a cool, Sunday afternoon, the sun struggling to penetrate the layers of cloud and smog but, determined to be outdoors, she wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck and found a bench in the local park. Regina laid a steaming cup of coffee next to her, pulled a book from her bag and unwrapped a sandwich from her favourite deli. She savoured the first two bites but between sips of her beverage and the engrossing pages of her novel, the food soon lay forgotten.

At the last page of her chapter, the young college student drained the dregs of her now cold coffee and stared across the grass at the couples, families and lone explorers like herself. It wasn't long before she spotted something from the corner of her eye and realised that she was being watched. She recognised the girl immediately and felt a surge of relief and trepidation.

She'd almost resigned herself to the fact that she could do nothing for someone she didn't know how to find, but now here the child was and looking, if possible, more dishevelled than ever. Regina knew the chances of meeting the wretched waif again was minimal, but what to do? She couldn't just take the girl back to her dorm and claim guardianship over her. She needed to involve the authorities in some way but she knew from personal experience that they weren't always helpful.

First things first, Gina, she told herself firmly. Get her to talk to you.

Cautiously, she looked up and made eye contact with the girl. She smiled gently and waved a 'hello' but at the back of her mind, she was working out what to say to gain the blonde's trust. From the girl's hesitancy, Regina could tell that she knew she shouldn't be approaching strangers in the park. Perhaps she even recognised the young adult from the unfortunate incident on the high street, but from Regina's inviting smile and gesture to sit, she made her way to the bench and half perched on the far end.

Brown eyes watched as green landed hungrily on the half-eaten sandwich and a plan formed in their dark depths. "Hey, I saw you outside Chanel a couple of weeks ago, didn't I?" She saw recognition in the child's face and pressed on, lowering her voice a little. "I'm sorry about my mother; she thinks everyone's out to get her. Are you ok?"

The blonde shrugged. "I'm eleven, I can take care of myself," she replied, her tone full of bravado, before her voice turned suddenly hoarse and she began to cough.

Regina winced at the sound but tried not to show it as she reached into her bag for the bottle of water she always carried. "Here. Sounds like you need this. I'm Regina by the way," she added when the girl took the offering and chugged most of it down. "What's your name?"

Suspicious eyebrows pulled together and the girl appeared to think for a while. Eventually, she reached a decision and answered with a soft, "Emma."

"Hi, Emma," the student greeted. She floundered for something to follow the ice-breaker and then remembered the food. "Emma, do you think you can help me out? I've got too much sandwich here…" She hesitated as the girl's face hardened, a blonde eyebrow rising as if to say 'you're kidding me, right?' With a small chuckle, she changed her approach. "I mean, you look hungry. Do you want the rest of my sandwich?"

Emma shrugged. "Sure," she replied with all the appearance of someone who was being asked to watch paint dry, but the way her eyes lingered and her fingers twitched, her hunger was apparent.

As Emma began to tuck into the food, the young college student smiled at the unrestrained enthusiasm for a simple sandwich, but she couldn't hide the sadness behind her eyes. "Where's your family, Emma?" She watched the girl pause to shrug before shoving more food in her mouth. "You should slow down if you don't want to throw up."

Worry passed over pale features and the girl paused again to chew with more care. A comfortable silence settled between them then for a minute. Just as Regina had decided to attempt more probing questions, a shout reached them from nearby and Emma shot off the bench.

Striding like a raging bull, an irate man barrelled down on them. As he came closer, the blonde girl climbed up onto the bench and scrambled over it. Regina watched, horrified as he followed Emma, his long legs giving him the advantage and bringing him almost in reach. As the terrified child skidded back onto the path, the brunette rose to her feet and positioned herself between the two.

"Get out of my way, bitch!" he threatened, his hand already reaching out to shove her aside.

Regina knocked the hand away and mustered all of her courage. "Touch me and I will have every lawyer in this city breathing down your neck by the end of the day!"

This brought him to a stop, his breathing expelling in hard snorts. He glared at his target over the head of the human barricade. "You'd best get back to the house before your Ma gets home or you're in trouble… young lady."

Regina frowned at his words. The way he'd paused at the end made her think that he had other, less benign monikers in mind. What he said gave her pause though. What could she do if this was Emma's father? What would she do if he decided to ignore her threat and took the child by force? She began to look around the park, hoping to catch someone's eye or spot a patrolling police officer.

"She ain't my mom!" Emma cried angrily from behind her shield. "And you ain't my dad. I hate you!"

The man surged forward but was blocked once again by the diminutive figure in front of him. "You, ungrateful brat," he hissed. He'd suddenly become aware that they were drawing a crowd of on-lookers and knew that his window of opportunity was closing fast. "Look, just come home now and we'll forget about you sneakin' out today. 'Cuz let's face it, Emma; where else you gonna go? You're trouble, kid and no one else wants you."

"That's enough," Regina insisted and felt blindly behind her for the girl. Several fruitless seconds passed where her heart lived in her mouth but eventually, the blonde wrapped cool fingers around her own. She sidled toward the bench and picked up her bag. "Emma," she continued in a no-nonsense tone. "Pick up your sandwich. We're leaving."

"You can't just take her," the man growled. "She's mine!"

"Watch me," Regina replied, her eyes hard, daring, hiding all of the terror she felt just from being in his close proximity. If she was scared of him, how must Emma feel when she was trapped in a house with him? The abundance of now openly gawking spectators gave her a small sense of confidence though and as she tucked her new charge into her side, she left him with a parting shot, "If I was you, I'd be looking for a place to hide right about now."

Emma watched in amazement as one of her own personal monsters turned tail and ran. She had no idea what would happen next. Her social worker had struggled to find a place for her until this latest couple had shown interest. They were ok, at first, but after shoving her into the back of the car one night and driving for days across the country, they soon showed their true colours. As she finished her sandwich and looked up in awe at her saviour though, she knew that her life had just taken a dramatic turn.