Chapter Fourteen
Emma couldn't get comfortable in her office, so ended up sitting at her father's desk, giving her the clearest view of the holding cell that she could get.
It allowed her to keep a constant guard of the drunkard slumped onto the cot inside it.
It was almost pathetic enough that Emma could feel sorry for the Mad Hatter, but this was fleeting as she recalled the gun locked away in evidence.
The reason that no one else could see the woman standing next to her. The reason that she couldn't grab Regina Mills and kiss her when she was at her most infuriating.
The reason that Henry was probably in his room sobbing over the revelation that he had done nothing to Regina's resolve to go through with her plan.
Emma was tempted to suggest that they go back before breaking the tether, to give her the chance at a real goodbye but their last interaction proved that it may be ill-advised for Regina's purposes.
Emma had to suppose that she couldn't risk the boy changing his mind.
As much as she hated it, Regina was right.
There was no way that this could work and Emma wasn't entirely certain that she would be able to get through whatever their goodbye would look like. She vehemently disagreed with the notion that this would make things easier, however.
How could they expect Henry to live with the guilt?
It was for this reason that she kept shooting glances at the woman who stood with her arms crossed as she stared angrily at the man in the cell. It was perhaps the first time that Emma wholeheartedly agreed that the Evil Queen's ire was deserved.
She was still very aware of the fact that they were extremely close to finishing their potion, however, so she figured that she had no choice but to take one of her final opportunities to discuss everything with the woman she was going to miss dearly.
"Regina," Emma said softly.
Regina wrenched her gaze away from the Mad Hatter and looked at the saviour questioningly.
"Yes, Miss Swan?"
"Don't 'Miss Swan' me right now, I want to talk about Henry before you're…you know…"
Regina drew her mouth into a thin line but didn't break eye contact, "And what is it that you want to discuss?"
"What…what am I supposed to do?" Emma asked, fiddling with the mouse on the computer that wasn't even turned on.
"Well, if you actually listened to Gold, you would know that he has a trust fund that he can access when he turns eighteen. It should be sufficient that he will be able to do whatever it is that he wants," Regina replied tightly.
"You know that's not what I meant," Emma sighed, "Do you think that the kid is going to care about money when you're gone?"
"I'm sure he will be very interested when he starts applying to college."
"Regina," Emma said until the spirit raised her eyebrows, "You saw how upset he was, he misses you and he's going to have to lose you again. How do you see him dealing with that?"
"Well if you hadn't told him then he would have no idea…"
"Can we not argue about that right now, Regina? You're going to be gone pretty soon and I have no idea how to help our son!" Emma exploded.
"You were doing perfectly fine for six months, I don't see how this is any different," Regina replied, her jaw clenched as she turned back to the cell.
"Are you kidding me, Regina?!" Emma seethed and pushed the chair back so that she could stand for effect, "This is completely different than that!"
"How?!"
"Because you're fucking dead!"
Silence descended upon them, during which Emma breathed deeply as if it would somehow stem the tears that she hadn't let out in a long time. It was difficult to cry for a woman that she literally couldn't get away from.
"I am well aware of my condition, Emma," Regina said, in an eerily calm tone, "But I have accepted that nothing will change it. All that I want is for you and Henry to be happy."
"And you think that's possible without you?" Emma asked, close to a whisper.
Regina swallowed hard and stared down at her heels that no longer clipped against the floor.
"It has to be," Regina replied.
"But Regina…I lov…"
The admission that had been boiling up inside the sheriff since the school incident was halted by a grunt, during which Regina stared back at her with widened eyes.
"Who are you talking to?" the man in the cell slurred, "And why are you doing it so loudly?"
Emma clenched her fists, of course, Jefferson would ruin this as well!
After taking a moment to compose herself from a grieving love-sick woman into Sheriff Swan addressing a murderer.
"That's none of your business, Jefferson," she said lowly.
Jefferson furrowed his brow as she sat up groggily and peered around the station as if making sure that she was telling the truth before he rubbed at the back of his extremely greasy hair.
His fingers then moved around to his recently punched jaw and said, "I'm pretty sure that police here aren't allowed to do that."
"You had a knife," Emma pointed out.
Jefferson frowned, "Did I?"
Emma rolled her eyes and approached the cell. On multiple occasions, she'd thought about what she would do if she had the Mad Hatter in this situation, but he was unfortunately right. She couldn't just beat the shit out of him, so maybe she could actually ask him some questions?
"How did you get out of your cuffs? And how did you know that Regina's heart monitor would fail?" she asked.
"You may be giving me too much credit," he replied blearily, "I wasn't really thinking that far ahead. I just knew that the bitch had to die. Guess everyone just got lucky?"
Emma growled and was about to abandon the 'sheriff act', but Regina cleared her throat so she stayed rooted instead.
"I know that you had help," Emma replied lowly, "If you tell me who it was then…"
"You'll let me see Grace?" Jefferson asked, standing rigidly but also hopefully.
"No, I was going to say that I might go easy on you," Emma replied.
He plopped back down to the cot and said, "Then I was working alone."
Emma clenched her fists, but Regina cleared her throat again.
"It doesn't matter if he had an accomplice, Emma, his blood will suffice," she interjected.
Emma tried hard not to look back at her because she knew that she was liable to launch into an argument about how the sheriff couldn't allow an accessory to murder to be free in her town, but she knew that Regina would disagree.
After all, she wouldn't be in this town much longer would she?
"I'm placing you under arrest, Jefferson," Emma announced, "I'll get someone to come and take a blood sample soon."
"Why do you need that?" Jefferson asked, frowning.
"We need your DNA for the system," Emma lied before retreating back to her office as the Mad Hatter rolled his eyes and lay back down.
Unfortunately, he was still within earshot so she couldn't finish one of her final conversations with the woman that she was now certain she loved.
s
Henry knew every inch of Storybrooke better than anyone else. Once he figured out that he was the only one in town capable of ageing and that making friends would be implausible, he instead occupied his mind with exploration.
There was one section that he avoided and that hadn't changed now that he knew someone that had been laid to rest here.
The cemetery was creepy as it was, which was made worse by theories of the curse. He would rather not think about whether the graves actually had real people in them.
As he was led through it with his grandfather's hand on his shoulder, though, he only had eyes for the structure at the back.
His mind momentarily flashed back to the picture of the Evil Queen standing in front of her vault of darkness, but he disregarded it.
The woman in that illustration hadn't existed for a very long time, but he did stop and fiddle with the flowers.
Snow had chosen them but now he was wondering whether he should have pointed out that she would much prefer something in a purple hue.
Perhaps they could return to the store and he could show more interest in the selection process? It would give him more time before he had to see her but his plan was simple.
What reason did he have to be nervous when the curse would be broken soon and everything would go back to normal?
Of course, his grandparents couldn't know what was going through his mind, so he was unsurprised to hear Snow White's reassurances:
"I know that this is difficult and if you're not ready…"
Henry swallowed and shook his head before resuming his steps.
"No, I've already waited way too long. If she can take a bullet, I can bring her flowers," he mumbled, sensing Snow and David exchanging a look before they followed him.
The boy held his breath as David pulled the door open to reveal the tomb of his namesake and he had to stop again.
Was this how Regina felt whenever she came here?
Before either of his living grandparents could suggest again that he didn't have to do this, his hand passed over the dust on the tomb, considering how his mother would feel about the lack of upkeep of her father's final resting place.
His mind blanked of all thoughts, however, as his next step brought the other occupant of the mausoleum into clear view.
He gasped.
Despite how often they had been in the same room over the last few weeks, he hadn't so much as seen a picture of her.
The clear coffin revealed that she was in better condition than when Snow White was trying to stem the ample bleeding if it wasn't for one little detail: she wasn't breathing.
Other than that, she was every bit the regal mayor that lived in his memory, though he had to wonder why it was that Emma had chosen that blue dress.
It wasn't what he would have gone for, but he had refused to be involved in the selection process.
There was a lot that he had refused to take part in and fresh devastation washed over him as he reached the coffin for an up-close look at his dead mother.
The flowers dropped to the marble ground and he released a ragged breath.
If he had attended the funeral (or better yet, visited her in the hospital), there was no way that he could have remained angry for as long as he had, not with the line of stitches running up from beneath her dress.
"Mom…" he lamented, wincing at a hand on his arm.
"You know that she was in a long surgery Henry, the incision…didn't have a chance to heal…"
In his excitement to believe that this was a curse, he hadn't pressed Isaac for more details.
As he stared at her face, praying for some kind of twitch, he felt abject doubt.
He'd seen David under a curse and he was still breathing and his spirit wasn't wandering the town trying to be released into the afterlife.
Regina was pale, not breathing, magically preserved but undeniably dead.
He dug his fingertips into the lid that was clouding under his breathing and he pleaded, "Can you take this off?"
David sighed, "I'm not sure that's such a great idea, Henry…" he said while his wife nodded in agreement.
"Please…I just want to say…goodbye," he lied.
David glanced at Snow and they shared a reluctant nod before each taking one end of the sparkling casket top and placing it on the ground.
Henry sniffed hard through his nose, at last smelling the spiced apples that no longer lingered at Milfin Street. He had the exact effect that he was hoping that it would, it reminded him of home.
Snow's hands fell on each side of her stepmother's head and stared in a way that almost exactly matched how Henry felt.
The anger that he talked extensively to Archie about quickly whipped up.
Snow White basically forced her to become her stepmother and gave her no other choice but to marry a man she barely knew after watching her fiance's heart crumble.
It may be a giant leap but it wasn't inaccurate to say that Snow's actions were what brought Regina to this point.
If she and her father hadn't been travelling through Prince Henry's estate, Regina would be married to Daniel, living a provincial life. Perhaps she would have children or even grandchildren if Henry's math was right.
She certainly wouldn't have been berated for a year by the son she raised and then abandoned by that same boy for another six months.
She would live a happy life in a world without guns and Mad Hatters.
Would she choose that life given the chance? Was that why she wanted to break the tether? She could be with Daniel and her father, and she could be free of the town of people who hated her.
The therapy sessions gave him the tools that he needed not to snap at his grandmother. However briefly and tragically, Regina was her mother at one point.
It would always be the strange reality of their family.
Still, he couldn't stop from bitterly thinking that Snow White of all people didn't deserve to look at Regina like that.
Before he fell into considering whether he deserved to, he asked, "Do you guys think I could have a minute alone with my mom?"
"Of course," David replied, having to pull Snow from Regina's head, "We'll be right outside if you need anything."
Henry waited until he heard the heavy door closing behind his grandparents before he moved his shaking hand.
Later, he would have no idea what possessed him to do it but he touched the stitched-up skin that was given very little chance to repair itself.
With a hiss, he recoiled at the roughness and instead touched her frozen cheek, expecting a reaction that naturally didn't come.
"I hope True Love's Kiss can heal that too," he mumbled absently as if this were a real conversation. What if he brought her back only for her to either be in agony or to go into immediate heart failure. He didn't exactly have any medical equipment available.
Pushing these objections away, he focused on her face, yearning for the cemented eyelids to part to reveal the comforting brown and to hear that everything would be okay. In his mind, there was only one way to achieve that.
Hesitantly, he stepped closer with his hand still on her cheek.
"Hey mom…" he said, "I know that you're actually with Emma right now but I just wanted to…Well, we can talk about it when you wake up."
Scrunching up his eyes, he removed his hand and replaced it with his lips, promptly counting to five until he opened them.
He smiled eagerly for another five seconds but it became a deep scowl as she remained stubbornly unmoved.
Anger surged through him as if she were choosing to remain dead.
"You know I love you right? I mean, how could you think that I don't…." he trailed off and pressed another kiss to her pale skin with tears bursting forth, "mom, come on!" he said with a few more successive kisses until he dropped to his knees with his sobs, only just supporting himself with his arms on the slab so that he could smother his tears into her torn chest.
Brokenly, he said, "Mommy, please!"
This came out as more of a wail, loud enough to attract the company he'd entirely forgotten about.
A strong pair of arms pulled him up, but he was hyper-aware that it was not the embrace that he wanted, so he started thrashing in his grandfather's grip.
"No! She has to wake up!" he shouted, "I love her, she has to wake up!"
Snow watched with widened eyes until she rushed over and touched his upper arms, which was enough to de-escalate his frenzy, but did nothing for his tears.
"Henry," Snow said softly, "This isn't a curse, you do understand what happened don't you?"
It was almost condescending, surely how an adult would talk to a traumatised child. Maybe a child who was present for his mother's shooting?
The deafening bang rang in his head again and he promptly started hyperventilating.
Why hadn't he run over to her as she crumpled to the floor? Why hadn't he taken the last opportunity to talk to her while he could see her?
"My mom died," he replied between ragged breaths, "My mom can't be dead…The Evil Queen isn't supposed to die to a gun!"
Snow's forehead creased and rather than seeking comfort from her husband, she looked to her stepmother. Was she also praying that she would wake up and say exactly what they needed to hear?
"It wasn't about being the Evil Queen," she replied, her voice cracking, "She died as Regina. Death can't be reversed, no matter how badly we want her back."
In a clearer state of mind, he may have mounted his defence, telling them everything that Isaac revealed to him but he just buckled into his grandmother and stared over her shoulder at his mother.
Somehow, hearing the abject lack of hope from Snow White made it feel real.
Regina Mills was dead and it was his fault.