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Chapter Three: Shrink Speak
Emma drove through the steady throng of traffic feeling glad of the busy streets and the easy excuse for a distraction. Regina sat quietly in the passenger seat beside her and stared out of the window as they made their way back to her apartment. She'd stopped calling it 'home'. Her girlfriend had made her feelings on the subject quite clear - it was a temporary safehouse until the trial was over - and the moment she was free of her mother's insanity, she was going to find her own place.
Emma tried not to be offended or worried by her girlfriend's insistence on needing to move out - they'd discussed it with Dr Hopper in therapy again today and she understood Regina's reasons - but deep down it still hurt. She finally felt like she was somewhere she belonged and she was afraid if she let it slip away, she'd never get it back. As guilty as she felt for being part of the plan that had lost the brunette her apartment, she couldn't help the joy she'd felt in having Regina share her space over the last couple of months. They rode up the elevator from the parking lot and stepped into her fancy apartment, the tense silence from the car following them in.
"Emma," Regina began as she slipped out of her coat and hung it up. "Talk to me," she pleaded softly. "What are you thinking?"
"We've just finished therapy; I don't need another session right now," the blonde replied bluntly. When Regina had started going to see Dr Hopper a month ago, she'd been as supportive as she possibly could but she'd avoided any avenue of conversation that might lead to her having to participate in the shrink's office. Until this week. She made her way to the kitchen, regret and relief filling her in equal measure as she longed to reach for a glass and a bottle of sour-mash or its like, but she hadn't bought any more since throwing the last of her supply down the drain. "You hungry?" she asked as she opened the fridge door and peered inside for inspiration.
Regina sighed, wishing for what felt like the millionth time that they were back in her cosy apartment. Only it wasn't hers any more. The landlord had a new tenant living there. Though it had been a fake eviction to her, he'd obviously needed someone there to pay the rent.
After many conversations with Archie - Dr Hopper - she understood now that her increasing dislike of Emma's apartment had more to do with her need for control than the actual surroundings, but that didn't make the penthouse space any less impersonal. There were all the things she needed here to cook up something satisfying for the both of them, maybe something that could get them chatting around the table, but it just didn't feel like it had in her cramped but warm kitchen. In her own space, that she'd crafted with her own two hands after pulling herself and her son out of squalor. Ok, so even those reasons were about control really, but try as she had, she just couldn't make herself feel free here.
She'd left her heeled shoes by the front door, so when she slipped in close behind her girlfriend, pushed the fridge door closed and turned the woman in her arms, she stood looking up slightly at the blonde. "Emma, I know today wasn't easy for you. I barely said anything during my first few sessions with Archie, so I get that you shared a lot today, but he's not here now. It's just us. It doesn't have to be eloquent or even particularly coherent, but we do need to try to communicate with each other."
"Ugh…" Emma grunted, trying to hold onto her irritation to beat back the feeling of being exposed and raw. Meeting dark, compassion-filled eyes at last, she felt her resolve shatter. Her eyes closed, her shoulders slumped and her head fell softly against the brunette's. Long, anxious minutes passed before she finally found her voice again. "I don't want you to leave," she croaked.
"Emma…" Regina began, her love for this woman warring with her need to escape. But her girlfriend wasn't done.
"I don't want to live here anymore. Not if you're not with me." A tear rolled down the blonde's face. "I don't want to be alone again."
Oh, Regina thought, abruptly understanding where Emma's thoughts were. A wave of relief swept her body and a smile tugged at her lips. "Then don't," she told her girlfriend firmly and quickly followed it with a request, "Come with me."
Green eyes snapped open to stare down hopefully. "Really?"
The brunette's smile widened and a breathy laugh rose into the air between them. "Yes, Emma. I know now that it has less to do with the apartment than my insecurities and somehow I've tied the two together, but wanting to leave this place doesn't mean I want to leave you. So, if you don't want to be here either, then come with me."
As the idea took shape in her mind, new thoughts joined in. Her custody of her son still hung in the balance. Though the trial was going well for them and it looked very likely that they would win, the judge had refused to transfer the papers back to her until her legal and financial situation was sorted. That meant clearing her of the bogus charges from her mother and returning to her job full-time. Why hadn't she thought of this before? If Emma was with her, then Henry would have to be too. She mulled it over in her mind and realised that her initial reaction had been the right one; it was no longer just about keeping Henry, she wanted the three of them to stay together, as a family.
"We don't even have to wait," she added, her excitement building. "We can start looking for something right away." She began to move away, determined to fetch the laptop to boot it up and start looking at lettings and sales, but Emma held onto her and pulled her back.
"We could…" the blonde hedged. She brushed away the salty tracks on her cheeks and found a seductive smile. "We definitely should get on it soon. But maybe, just for now, we could make the most of the empty apartment?"
Well, that has appeal, Regina thought to herself. The doctor had cleared Emma for more strenuous physical activity a couple of weeks ago, but it was rare that they had such freedom to make the most of their time together. Regina slipped her hand into Emma's and tugged her in the direction of the bedroom.
The tip-tapping of keys pulled Emma from sleep very early the next morning. She yawned and stretched before rolling over to find out what had disturbed her at such an ungodly hour. The sight that met her sleep-encrusted gaze pulled a satisfied smile from her lips though. Regina Mills in a baggy t-shirt with mussed hair and sexy-as-hell glasses was a vision.
For several seconds, Emma just watched and absorbed the sight. Few events in her life could compare to this moment and she wanted to savour it for as long as possible. Eventually, a twitch at the corner of Regina's mouth told her that she was caught. A smile grew without any effort from her own features and she shuffled about until they were sat side-by-side. From over the brunette's shoulder, she could see what had drawn the woman so early from sleep.
"I like that one," Emma said as she lifted a finger to point at the picture on the screen.
Regina paused and looked sideways at her girlfriend, a raised brow pinning the blonde down. "That's the White House and an ad for cheap flights," she responded, her tone sardonic.
Emma grinned cheekily. "I think I could do a decent job as your First Lady."
A frown appeared beneath dark hair. "Why am I president in this scenario?"
"Please!" the blonde scoffed and laughed. She returned to the screen, looking this time at the actual houses for sale. The playful expression on her face faded slowly. "This is what you want?" she asked tentatively, after a lengthy silence.
Regina mirrored the frown. "You don't like them?" There were several condos and sprawling houses – mansions almost – displayed on the screen, each with land to spare. After waking at dawn to answer the call of nature, she'd been too excited about their next potential home to return to sleep. "Perhaps my window shopping has drifted a bit from where I started, but assuming that the trial goes the way we want it to, I won't be short of money to contribute to something like these." She saw the hesitancy and doubt cloud over her girlfriend's face and felt immediate concern crash though her. They were only a month distanced from their near-breakup and she was still learning how to face those relationship fears and not run from them. "Emma, talk to me," she pleaded.
Uncertain green eyes met worried brown and tried to smile. "I don't want to say something that'll start an argument," Emma admitted shyly.
"Arguments are their own form of communication," Regina reminded the blonde.
Rolling her eyes, Emma reached up and ran her fingers through her hair and shifted in her spot. "Shrink-speak," she muttered, though there was no true venom in her tone.
Setting the laptop further down the bed, the brunette turned and slid a hand behind the small of the other woman's back. When the blonde turned to look at her, she leaned in and kissed her gently. "Yes, shrink-speak," she agreed. "I don't enjoy arguing either, but sometimes we are going to disagree and things will get heated. Hopefully, not often but that's the risk you take when you choose to spend the rest of your life with the person you love." As hope gradually replaced the uncertainty staring back at her, Regina knew she'd said that right thing. Emma's abandonment issues were deep-set and would always need soothing on occasion. "So…?" she prompted.
"I liked your apartment. It was the most at-home I've ever felt," the blonde clarified reluctantly. The words came in quick bursts, as if they couldn't wait to break free once they escaped their mental holdings. "It was cosy. I don't want us to live somewhere so big that we can't find each other." That last was not what she'd meant to say, but now that it was out, it sounded right.
Regina listened and thought. She tried to imagine a scenario where that might happen but couldn't see it. "I hear that you're worried," she began, using her therapist's words, which still felt clunky and uncomfortable on her tongue. I need to fix that. She thought about the apartment they were currently living in and knew that she would be hurt if Emma dismissed her misgivings, but some of the bigger properties had really captured her imagination and she didn't want to immediately give up on them. "Whatever we buy needs to be right for both of us, so I'm glad you're telling me."
"But…?" Emma prompted, sensing the unfinished thought.
The brunette smiled guiltily. "Can I tell you what I've been planning?" At her girlfriend's attentive nod, she skipped back several properties to a handful that lay a little further from the city. "I started going a bit crazy on the house, I'll admit. I'm sure Henry can do without a bedroom, a games room and a study," she chuckled. "What I really want though is land for animals."
"Animals?" Emma asked, her tone a mix of alarm and curiosity.
"As our next project for the UDF," Regina added. She pointed to a property with existing stables and began to draw out her plans for an outdoor education centre and retreat for families, local schools and, "Anyone who's interested really. I figure we can charge for things like 'team building' ventures or vacation pods and use the fundraising for the rest. We could build a lodge too with beds, a kitchen, showers and whatnot. Classrooms. A rec-room."
"It'd be like a collage dorm," Emma muttered, but despite the soft hammering of her heart, she could see it. "So we'd run it from home?"
"Well, we'd have a site manager and staff for the day to day running; you still have your business with Ragnar and your community centres, and I still want to oversee the books, if that's ok with you?" She suddenly remembered that this wasn't her business – she was jumping on the UDF bandwagon, but whether it was for Emma's company or something for herself, her dream stood.
Emma nodded. "But you'd want to work from home so you could help out with the animals sometimes?"
Regina smiled at the vision that popped into her head. "Yes. I thought we'd start with rescue horses, and then when they're established, add some smaller animals – goats, guinea-pigs, rabbits – for children who are too afraid to approach the large animals."
"You've really thought this out," the blonde commented quietly, her gaze fixed reverently on her girlfriend.
Shrinking a little from the gaze and her own ambition, Regina stared at the image on her screen. "It was what I wanted to do even before my father died. When I… when I met Daniel and saw how much he enjoyed working with the horses, particularly the ones that needed rehabilitation, I knew I wanted to do something similar." She looked up and met glassy-green scrutiny. A smile pulled at her lips. "I'd forgotten what it felt like to have a dream, until I met you again."
She could feel eyes boring into her from all sides, but from one direction in particular. Cora Mills sat between her lawyers and nodded along to whatever they were whispering into her ear, but her steely gaze stared unblinking at her daughter. Regina ignored it. The part of her brain that wasn't engaged in answering questions was practising the calming techniques she'd been learning with Kathryn.
"Miss Mills?"
Regina's eyes snapped to her attorney. He was waiting patiently for an answer. You said you suspected foul play in your father's death. Why? She scanned the crowd and found her girlfriend. Emma nodded at her and she took a breath. "He got ill so quickly," she told the jury. "But whenever I visited for a few days and took over his care, he always improved."
Blaine appeared contemplative as he paced the area before the witness stand. "With these suspicions in mind, what did you do after his death?"
"I investigated. Quietly, so my mother wouldn't find out." They'd rehearsed this exchange many times but she still felt her voice catch at her admission. The frightened little girl who still lived at the back of her mind cowered at the expectation of swift punishment for her words.
The attorney pretended to look puzzled and held his hands out in front of him, waiting for answers to drop into them. "Why would you want to keep your investigation from your mother? Surely, she would want to know the reason for her husband's death."
Regina's eyes held position as she was thrown back into the memory of that time. The pain, the confusion, the bitter taste of betrayal. "I was concerned that she was involved somehow," she recalled. "After the funeral, the only thing that interested her was getting to his money."
The response from the defence was immediate, as it had been many times already. "Objection! Speculation."
Blaine stood his ground and faced the judge. "Your honour, Miss Mills was witness to Mrs Mills' actions at the time."
Cora's attorney was having none of it though. "But not privy to my client's state of mind or the motivation for her actions."
"Sustained," the judge agreed.
Mr Blaine was not rattled though. He simply nodded and thought again about his approach. "Miss Mills. Please describe what you witnessed of your mother's behaviour after your father's death."
And on, and on it went. By the time they were released from court, Regina felt like she'd gone ten rounds with Mohammed Ali. She was dazed and punch drunk. Outside the courtroom, she welcomed Emma's arm around her waist and leant into the other woman just enough to feel like she wouldn't keel over. Kathryn was there too, as were Mary Margret, David, Ruby and Ragnar. So many people on her side. So many friends to drive her determination. Reporters turned up daily as well – eager to follow the story of the evil elite's fall from power. Then too were many other strangers – lawyers in training perhaps, or just interested citizens.
At first, Regina found their many eyes intimidating, overwhelming. Under the scrutiny of strangers, she felt more vulnerable than ever. She'd never wanted the spotlight that came with fame but now she was in the thick of it. As the trial stretched on over days then weeks, she grew used to their presence though and the more she talked about her living nightmare, the more she saw them as a shield and not a sword. Though she knew the jury had been instructed not to show bias, the audience had no such obligation and they frequently caught her eye to offer a smile of encouragement or glared daggers at the back of her mother's head. It was enough to make her feel vindicated, even if the outcome of the trial didn't come out the way she hoped.
It wasn't until a week later, after the final court hearing, where the jury had been sent away to deliberate over their verdict and they were all gathered in Emma's apartment, that she was forced to consider that vulnerability again.
Thanksgiving. They'd had very little time to prepare for the holiday, but had enjoyed the day at the UDF centre, handing out food packages to families and playing games with anyone who had no inclination to be at home. Regina had managed during the week to bake (with Henry's help) enough pastries and cookies to pick at, and a giant pile of turkey sandwiches sat in the middle of the coffee table. No one complained as they grazed at the buffet and chatted light-heartedly.
It was after Henry had been put to bed, and Emma and Ragnar – fuelled by sugar and good company – were excitedly retelling the tale of one of their more daring jobs, when Regina's phone interrupted them. Seeing that it was agents Brookes and Zauberwald, Regina answered it, put her cell on speaker-phone and set it on the table.
All of the air in the room seemed to disappear for Regina as the agents talked and she processed their words. Her mother was requesting a private audience with her in exchange for more of her Green Dynasty pals. Almost immediately after their request, the room erupted into a back and forth volley of raised voices. Regina sat and imagined the bitter conversation she might have with her mother under those circumstances. The accusations, the recriminations, the threats. As she watched her friends (Emma and Kathryn mostly) fight tooth and nail on her behalf though, the edge of her panic receded.
"I'll do it."
The room fell silent and all eyes turned to Regina.
"It's fine," she repeated. "I'll do it."
"Babe…" Emma began, her expression pinched with worry.
Kathryn too couldn't help but frown at her friend. "Regina, she's making a last ditch effort to get one up on you. It's a trap."
"I know," Regina replied, feeling eerily calm now as she looked around the room. Her mother always had to have the last work and usually it made her jumpy for days because that last word was often a thinly veiled threat, but no matter what Cora said now, Regina had a family who would stand by her. "I'm not saying that she won't be able to get under my skin but she has never had less control over me, and if it helps even one more person to avoid being exploited by her associates, then it's worth doing." She smiled at the small nods of agreement. Turning to the phone, she picked it up, switched off the speaker and told them, "Set up the meeting."
In ideal circumstances, Emma wouldn't be having a crisis of her own while her girlfriend needed her to be attentive and proactive. She tried though. She smiled and nodded in all the right places as Regina and Henry talked over dinner the next day. She did the dishes and helped her son with his bath and then into his pyjamas. She made pained effort to make sense of the legal speak that fell from her girlfriend's mouth as they had some time alone before bed. But the spiky corners of an envelope poked into her leg every time she moved, the irritation reminding her that her life as she knew it might be about to fall on its head.
It taunted her, repeating all the reasons she'd avoided the DNA test to begin with. Now, the results were in, but she was too much of a coward to find out what they were. She'd picked at her food without her usual gusto and smiled without the usual joy behind her eyes, but neither was enough to raise any sort of alarm. Regina was distracted too, by thoughts of the upcoming meeting with her mother, and Emma didn't want to make things any harder for her by making her own problems a priority.
Later, pulling back cotton covers, Emma slipped into bed and began to pull her hair back. She could hear Regina's voice from the ensuite, her nervous patter an almost constant monologue that Emma tried to tune into, but it was like she had cottonwool stuck deep in her ears. Even when her girlfriend slid in next to her and said her name repeatedly, she didn't hear it. Only when a sharp finger jabbed her in the arm did she snap out of her zombie-like state.
"Ow!" Emma complained and looked accusingly at the woman beside her. "What was that for?"
"Are you even listening?" Regina wondered, her tone irate now. Her face was flushed from the combination of nerves and having just washed off all her makeup, but the look in her eyes was steely. "I thought you said you were going to help me prepare for tomorrow?"
The blonde rubbed her arm and bit back a retort. The last few weeks had pushed them all to the edge of their patience: the trial, FBI interviews, testimonies, Henry, waiting for DNA test results, house hunting, fund raising, holidays and just the daily grind of life. It was overwhelming and Emma had secretly wondered how long their happy little bubble was going to last before it popped again. Was tonight the night?
"I will," she replied defensively, though she doubted that she had the presence of mind to have anything productive to add.
"How are you going to do that if you don't participate in the conversation?" Regina challenged. When there was no immediate response, she threw up her hands. "Oh, never mind!" She huffed and snatched at the covers before rolling away from the blonde.
Emma swallowed hard and hovered on an edge between unreasonably angry, where she wanted to storm out, to disproportionately guilty. Either way, tears filled her vision and she turned in the opposite direction to hide them. Ten minutes passed before Regina huffed softly to herself and rolled onto her back. Another ten minutes of shuffling allowed Emma the time to put away all of her conflicted thoughts and discretely wipe at her face. She felt and heard her girlfriend trudge into the bathroom and held her breath when the brunette returned and crawled back in next to her.
"Emma?" Regina whispered from across the divide several minutes later. "Are you awake?"
A snarky response teetered on the edge the blonde's tongue: you think I could sleep through this? She held it back. "Yes." She felt a hand land tentatively on her shoulder and shifted reluctantly onto her back. "I'm sorry I wasn't listening," she added, knowing it was the easiest path to the end of this argument.
"I know, but it's not your fault," Regina responded gently. "I've been all over the place the last few days – I don't blame you for tuning me out."
"That's not…" Emma began, wanting to assure her girlfriend that she wasn't bored of hearing her talk, but she suddenly realised that in doing so, she'd have to explain why she was so distracted. It wasn't something she wanted to get into right now. She needed more time to process. "I'm still sorry."
Dark, preoccupied eyes gazed around the room and flicked back to Emma. Regina sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. "I didn't mean to snap at you. You're the last person I want to be at odds with. I just need to get this meeting over with. I need her and Leo to be locked away for the rest of their lives and I need to finally be able to move on with my life without constantly looking over my shoulder."
Emma reached over and tugged at the other woman's sleeve, until they were lying side by side again, this time facing inward. She thought about all that this woman had endured and how strong she'd needed to be over the years to escape her mother's machinations. She renewed her efforts to push her own stresses to the back of her mind and found the presence she'd lacked earlier. "You know what you want out of this meeting with Cora," she reminded the brunette gently. "We know that she's going to push her own agenda on you even if we don't know what exactly that is yet. But whatever she comes up with, it's going to be her twisted version of reality. You said it yourself, your plan is simple: listen, dismiss, respond. Right?"
It was simple. She'd planned it that way so it would be easy to remember. She'd hashed and rehashed it over the last couple of days – sometimes with input from Emma or Kathryn – until it was etched on her brain. First, listen: let her mother think that she had a captive audience; let her spout her candy-coated vitriol. Second, dismiss: remember why it was all lies; reconstruct it in her own mind; remember the truth and be proud of her achievements. Last, respond: be concise, be calm, give Cora no grounds to complain about mistreatment (the meeting would be recorded), take her time if she needed to, but don't hold back. This was her opportunity to stand up to her tormentor. Her opportunity to show her mother once and for all that she had no more power over her daughter.
"Right," Regina replied, her head nodding as she snuggled closer to the blonde and laid it on Emma's shoulder.
Wrapping her arms around the slender figure, Emma turned her head to lay a kiss against her girlfriend's hair and hugged her closer. If she took a moment to breathe in the scent of floral shampoo and calm her own demons, it was instinctual. "Remember, she's locked in there, you're not. You can leave at any time."
"If I do that, she's won."
"Hey," Emma retorted abruptly, grabbing the brunette's attention. "Don't even think that. At this point, Regina, no matter what you do, you've won." She waited several seconds, letting her words sink in before she continued, "I know you made this plan for a reason – it's what you want out of this meeting. But any which way you look at it, you're walking out of that room to a family and a life that isn't dictated by her. She's lost. You've won."
Regina blinked several times, both at the gathering tears and the reality her girlfriend just illustrated for her. A tight knot loosened from her chest and she moved to hover over the blonde. "How did you get to be so smart?" she asked, her smile crooked and full of love.
Emma flushed at the compliment and shrugged, but she didn't look away from the beatific expression looking back at her. "As long as you don't punch her, you'll be ok."
"And if I do punch her?"
Another shrug. "She has it coming."
It took a while for them to slip into sleep. Their murmuring words filled the room sporadically as Regina's thoughts continued to brim over and fall out and Emma humoured her with drowsy responses. It was Emma who remained awake the longest though. After her girlfriend had finally talked herself to sleep, she continued to stare at the ceiling while playing with strands of dark, silky hair. All the while, one thought played on her mind: what was in that letter?
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