A/N: 1. For anyone who isn't comfortable, Hook is only mentioned in this fic and won't be making an appearance, also he left with Nemo willingly. 2. I'm changing the location of Regina's magic supplies from being moved to Emma's shed to her basement instead and took creative liberty in regards to the layout of Emma's home.
...SQ...
Regina paces back and forth on Emma's porch, stopping every now and then to look down at the small silver key in her hand. After Queenie had left for the Wish Realm—marking her departure with an effective removal of the spell on the town line—Regina had decided to do inventory at the vault to ensure it was fully stocked in case of an attack from an outside threat. Or inside threat, depending on how Gold feels on any given day.
After spending hours furiously sifting through what little remained of her magic supplies, she'd remembered most of her things had been moved to Emma's basement in preparation for The Evil Queen's imprisonment and they'd never had the chance to move any of it back.
And that's how she finds herself outside of Emma's home.
She'd poofed here straight from the vault and though Emma most likely wouldn't mind, Regina feels poofing into her home without invitation or warning feels a bit like an invasion of privacy.
Emma had given her a key a while back, which she'd found a little odd at the time not wanting to intrude. But Emma was adamant that she should always feel welcome here and so she'd caved, being secretly elated at that.
She stops pacing then, opting to move the key towards the keyhole slowly, before hesitating once again and slumping down onto a deck chair; sighing a heavy sigh as she eyes the key in trepidation. The last time she'd set foot into Emma's home had been when Emma announced her engagement to the pirate and the chance of accidentally running into said pirate in his own home—that he shares with Emma—fills her with dread.
She squirms at the thought - uncomfortable; if only she could poof all of her things directly back to the vault without having to face the duo. But having seen the size of Emma's basement when she, as The Dark One, had converted it into a dungeon of sorts, Regina isn't so sure she'll be able to poof everything over at once, at least not without seeing it all first.
It looks like she'll have to face Emma and that no-good pirate after all. Taking another moment to sigh another heavy sigh, making her dislike of this little errand clear to anyone who could be watching—no one is, she's checked—she slowly stands and makes her way back over to the front door.
It's then, just as she's about to place the key into the keyhole once again, that she perks up remembering a conversation she'd had with Snow the other day. Emma had texted Snow saying that she would be leaving town with Hook for a few weeks on a surprise trip to celebrate The Evil Queen's redemption and everything returning back to normal. Which means, "Nobody's home," Regina says, smiling to herself. The upturn of her lips feels strange after what feels like a lifetime of doing anything but. Especially after seeing a pesky little ring on a certain someone's finger.
She immediately unlocks the front door and runs to the basement door beneath the stairs. She's flung back as soon as her hand reaches out for the handle and upon sensing the protection spell used, curses under her breath at realising Emma has sealed it with blood magic.
Damn her.
And damn Regina for teaching her how to do it without the use of dark magic in the first place.
Realising there's no way to get into the basement and retrieve her supplies, Regina sends up a small prayer hoping that no one decides to attack Storybrooke whilst Emma is gone. Then turns to head back out and almost suffers a heart attack at seeing Emma lounging on the sofa in the living room, apparently knocked out.
She takes a moment to catch her breath and calm her heart rate before snapping, "What the hell are you doing here Emma!?" and immediately cringes, hearing the harshness of her tone and feeling a little guilty at possibly waking Emma from what seems to be quite a good sleep given how it looks like she hasn't a care in the world.
Emma remains unfazed, not moving an inch; not even stirring. Well she'd always assumed her to be a deep sleeper. She supposes that can now be ticked off of the metaphorical list. Since when did she have a list anyway?
Regina shakes her head, attempting to remove such thoughts from her mind and her eyes fall on a few broken shards of glass on the floor. She glances back up at Emma then, squinting and noticing for the first time that she's in a right state. Sprawled out across the sofa; empty glass bottles and beer cans littering the coffee table in front of her.
She frowns at that, not one for pegging Emma to be that heavy of a drinker—maybe when she first came to Storybrooke—but Emma has mellowed drastically since then. Regina feels a pang in her chest at that thought and tucks it away as fast as it comes. She can't get into that, not right now at least.
"Emma?" she asks tentatively. And as she begins to move closer she can see little drops of blood on the floor seeping into the cream coloured carpet and staining it. Her heart drops into her stomach. Regina rushes over to find Emma's white tank top covered in blotches of red, and feels her heart rate quicken further. "Emma!? Emma, get up!" she starts shaking the blonde roughly and almost feels lightheaded at the breath leaving her as Emma grunts before waking.
Regina runs her hand through her hair, attempts to anchor herself and her emotions by gripping slightly at the roots before letting go and sitting down on the sofa at Emma's feet trying to calm herself. She's absolutely relieved of course, yet still can't help the hiss in her tone when she asks, "What the hell happened Emma!?" then a softer, "Tell me where you're hurt."
She leans over, frantically searching Emma's body for a wound, something, anything to explain this away before she suffers an aneurysm, her head already throbbing painfully from the tension and worry. Emma appears incredibly disoriented, groggily looking up at Regina and blinking rapidly trying to adjust to the evening rays coming through the windows.
She smiles up a toothy grin at Regina before reaching out her hand until nimble fingers meet the velvet planes of Regina's cheek. The tips of Emma's fingers move to softly trace a little heart shape into the skin before resting her knuckles there and stroking gently.
Regina's eyes widen in surprise and fear, a crinkle appearing between her brows; more tension spreading across those exquisite features. She watches as Emma becomes momentarily distracted by that frown line, eyes glaring up at it as if willing it to go away. Sea-green finally meets chocolate brown again and as their eyes lock Emma mirrors the frown line on her own forehead. "What's wrong?" she croaks out, voice dry and hoarse, suddenly snatching her hand away and quickly sitting up.
"We should get you to the hospital. I think you may have a serious injury."
"What? I'm not going to the hospital."
"Emma, there is blood all over your clothes," Regina says gesturing to Emma's tank top with her eyes, "And you might have a concussion. You're acting strange."
Emma looks down at her tank top, "Oh," she says quietly, before holding her left hand up to face Regina. And there, on the inside of her palm, is a gash, not too deep that it needs medical attention but still deep enough. Dried blood is caked around it and it's still bleeding a little, the wet blood glistening in the light and Regina takes a deep breath.
It doesn't entirely explain Emma's behaviour but she is too distracted by the gash on Emma's hand to question anything else more. She exhales deeply; taking a hold of the raised hand into both of her own. Gently moving one hand over Emma's, she's about to call forth her magic and heal it. Feels its tendrils begin to swirl through her, then suddenly pulling back and fizzing out into nothingness as Emma snatches her hand away.
Regina startles at that, "It needs to be healed Emma. Why didn't you?" she asks, unable to help the accusation bleeding into her tone.
"Don't want to," Emma says matter-of-factly, and straight away Regina recognises the stubbornness in her voice, knows this isn't going to be easy. She sighs, moving to take Emma's hand into her own once again, but once again Emma pulls it back towards herself before Regina can get close enough.
"Emma..." Regina tries, internally shaking her head at the petulance on display. She moves forward again attempting to take Emma's hand once more. "I'll heal it for you, just—"
"No I don't want to use magic!" Emma shouts, the sound reverberating off of the walls as she pulls her hand closer to her chest.
Regina is taken aback.
She watches Emma for a few moments, noting her rigid posture, holding herself together so tightly. She's not sure why Emma is behaving like a child all of a sudden but she knows something is clearly bothering her. Regina opts not to push her, knowing all too well what can happen if Emma is pushed too hard.
"Fine. Fine. I won't use magic," she sighs, "Just... let me clean it up at least. Where's the first aid kit?"
Emma relaxes a little, gesturing towards the kitchen with her head and Regina gets up to rummage through the drawers in search of it.
A few moments later when she returns, first aid kit in hand, Emma is nowhere to be seen and Regina feels herself start to panic as she had done previously. She's just about to call out when vomiting sounds can be heard from upstairs. She quickly runs up the stairs and finds the bathroom door is open to reveal Emma bent over the toilet; heaving into it.
Regina moves into the bathroom, setting the first aid kit down onto the floor and takes a hold of Emma's long blonde hair to keep it out of her face while she continues to empty out her stomach contents. Not wanting to accidentally sniff any of the smell, Regina attempts to hold her breath, distracting herself by rubbing gentle circles over Emma's back. Feels the fuzzy texture of Emma's tank top tickling her fingertips as she attempts to soothe her and hopes it's helping.
After Emma finishes vomiting, she sits back leaning against the bathtub and Regina lets go of her hair to sit opposite her. She watches Emma for a few minutes as the blonde simply stares down at the ground before sighing and then picking up the first aid kit, getting to work on cleaning Emma's wound and wrapping it properly.
"You're supposed to be on a trip with Hook," Regina says, her previous notion of not wanting to push Emma thrown out of the window—she hasn't asked about this yet—and finishes wrapping the wound, not missing the slight flinch that comes from Emma. "Sorry, I have to wrap it tightly," she mumbles.
"It's okay," Emma replies quietly.
"What happened?"
Emma just sits staring at her, a blank look on her face.
Regina studies her closely, Emma's eyes are dull and lifeless and she feels it pulling at her heart. Without thinking she starts stroking Emma's hand, feels the soft milky skin beneath her fingertips and the rough material of the dressing under her thumb. Emma's eyes move to her hand then, regarding it for a few seconds. A crinkle appears on her brow and tears start to gather in her eyes but never fall.
Regina furrows her brows upon seeing that look before looking down at Emma's hand and that's when she notices it.
No engagement ring.
Damn it.
Something must have happened between Emma and Hook.
Regina feels slightly guilty when a wave of something akin to relief washes over her. It doesn't stay that way long however when it's overpowered by anger, flaring through her as she remembers not noticing any of Hook's things lying around the house in the little time she's been here. She grits her teeth, her anger building at the thought of Hook just upping and leaving after proposing to Emma.
Who the hell does that anyway?
She exhales deeply attempting to tamp it down, "Come on," she says, "Get up," and stands pulling Emma up with her.
"Regina, what are you doing?" Emma asks. She sounds so defeated and Regina wants to drag that damn pirate back here just to punch him in the face.
"I'm refusing to let you wallow in self-pity. I don't know what happened between you and that no-good pirate, but I see no reason for you to throw your life down the drain," she says wrinkling her nose and crossing her arms as she takes in Emma's state.
Emma cowers under her scrutiny. Regina's just about to throw her a smug look when Emma begins to watch her with a goofy adoring smile and Regina becomes very quickly exasperated, pinching the bridge of her nose.
Clearly Emma is still a little drunk it seems.
"When did you last shower?" Regina asks. Emma looks at her like she has no idea and Regina notes that she at least has the decency to look slightly sheepish. She arches an eyebrow at Emma then, "I'll fetch you some clean clothes," before looking down at her hand, "Maybe try not to get that wet." With that Regina leaves knowing Emma doesn't need to be told twice.
...SQ...
Emma's struggling to wash her hair when she hears footsteps on the other side of the shower curtain signalling Regina's return. She tries not to make it obvious not wanting to bother Regina but grunts accidentally.
"Emma? Everything okay?"
"It's just... A little hard to wash my hair with one hand," Emma replies hesitantly, grunting again as she struggles—Regina already knows now, there's no use pretending.
The room falls silent for a minute and Emma waits for Regina to say something sassy in response before leaving her to continue helping herself. Instead she's pleasantly surprised when Regina tentatively asks, "Emma? May I?"
And Emma isn't sure she hears correctly, so she just stands there immobile. But then Regina's moving closer to the shower curtain and Emma realises she's probably waiting for her to answer. "Um, s-sure..." she chokes out, "Lemme just—" she scrambles around quickly, curling up at the bottom of the bath tub; pressing her legs up to her chest. Keeping her eyes focused on her feet, she gulps and then pulls back the curtain.
Emma's breath hitches as Regina steps closer to pick up the shampoo bottle. She does her best not to show how fast her heart is beating at the close proximity. This is not something she wants to be doing right now—or ever—she has simply worked too hard for too long to keep her distance from Regina. To keep her emotions intact and not let Regina know just how much she feels for her.
She cannot jeopardise that now.
And really she should have said no. Should have told Regina she can manage and even though Regina knows she can't—because Emma has made that quite clear—she'd never want to make Emma uncomfortable and would just leave her to do it herself. But sometimes Emma can't help it. Wants to be around Regina more than anything, even though she knows it's the wrong thing to do.
She thinks back to years before when she'd first come to Storybrooke. Emma had seen the fire in Regina's eyes along with something else—something more. Something that made Emma feel absolutely terrified but come alive all at once after so long of feeling nothing; walking around like a zombie with no purpose in life. Remembers how little it had taken to start feeling for the woman. How the first few months had been push and pull between them, fighting over their son, with little to no care for what the other went through.
She'd learned pretty early on that the feelings she harboured for Regina were not going to go away. At first she'd continued to fight with Regina, get into her face and exchange cruel words and petty arguments just to get her attention; to be in her presence. But as Emma watched the woman before her slowly transform into someone new, someone who the world had tried to destroy but who fought back and won, she realised that she couldn't drag this beautiful woman down with her.
Because Regina could never be with someone as broken as Emma. And Emma would never be good enough.
So she'd kept her distance. Well, tried to as best she could anyway. Fate had continued to throw them together. Until one day it didn't. Just when Emma had pondered upon the possibility that perhaps fate was giving her a sign, new people were brought into their lives. Men who separated them in a way that allowed Emma to justify to herself the distance she kept.
And so she'd accepted it. Had pushed her emotions deep down inside of her where only she knew they existed. Where they could eat away at her and only hurt her. But now... now there's a chance that all she's worked for will be in vain, and she can't let that happen.
Not now. Not ever.
Not when there's so little time left.
She's just about to protest, make up a stupid excuse to get far away from Regina so that she doesn't slip up and ruin things and make it awkward between them, but then Regina is washing her hair. And she's so damn gentle that just like that every thought running through Emma's mind is silenced as if nothing had existed there in the first place.
Regina threads her fingers through Emma's long locks, scratching lightly at her scalp and Emma just wants to go to sleep all over again. Thinks this is how it must feel to be looked after by someone who cares about you. The thought warms her heart, blooming in her chest and causing her to choke up at the idea that Regina cares about her. She lets out a soft hum in appreciation, smiling absently as her eyes close and she revels in the feeling.
Emma doesn't want to open her eyes when Regina's finished, doesn't want to move or do anything at all other than bask in this moment. It's Regina who moves away first. Leaning over Emma to place the showerhead back into its holder and Emma inhales sharply, holding her breath as she feels Regina's presence in front of her. Her eyes are still closed and Regina isn't even touching her but she can sense it. Somehow she knows and she isn't sure what to do with that knowledge other than make sure she doesn't disturb the air around Regina.
Regina deserves better.
Regina moves back then and when Emma—some way, somehow—senses her a small distance away, she opens her eyes slowly, finding Regina looking down at her from where she's sitting on the edge of the bathtub. Head slightly tilted, Regina pushes a few wet strands of hair that are stuck to Emma's forehead behind her ear, leaving goosebumps in her wake. And Emma hopes to God that they aren't visible because she has no idea how she'll explain them away.
Regina moves forward, leaning over and brushes a soft kiss to Emma's temple, before sitting upright once again. Emma waits for the inevitable, waits for Regina to recoil, for her eyes to widen at the realisation of what she's just done.
But nothing happens.
Regina simply looks at her, soft eyes shining, attempting to tell Emma something—Emma knows it must be significant but has no idea what it could be—and says, "Your clothes are on the hook behind the door. Change before you catch a cold," with that she leaves.
And Emma grasps tight hold of that little bud of hope adamant on growing within her chest and squeezes, attempting to crush the life out of it before it crushes the life out of her.
...SQ...
She's dried, changed and making her way downstairs 10 minutes later.
There's a delicious smell coming from the kitchen, so naturally she heads over there and finds Regina has cooked breakfast for her. Well technically it's dinner considering it's 5pm and dark outside—winter nights and all that—but also, Emma did just wake up, so yeah, breakfast.
It's a grilled chicken salad. Not Emma's first choice but she'll take it. Regina's cooking is always top notch. Frankly she's impressed Regina was even able to cook this up in the little time she had. She chuckles internally at that. Who is she kidding? It's Regina Mills, of course she was able to do just that.
Realising she's been staring at the food for too long and not wanting to seem rude, she takes a seat at the table beside Regina and shakes her head attempting to shoo away the thoughts so she can focus on eating.
Regina seems to misinterpret this of course, "I know it's not the usual heart attack on a plate you prefer to eat, but I promise it tastes good all the same." She averts her eyes then quietly murmurs, "I just think you should be eating something nutritious Emma."
Emma feels that hope bloom in her chest again and immediately tamps it down. She doesn't understand how Regina is okay with all of this. Wants to ask Regina why? Why is she doing this? Why is she here when she could be anywhere else better right now? Why did she kiss Emma on the temple? And help her wash her hair? And clean up her wound?
Deep down, she already knows the answer.
Regina is a good person. That's why.
She gives a little nod to Regina before picking up the fork, stabbing it into the salad and scooping some into her mouth. Regina beams at her in response. And Emma offers her a small smile lazily munching on a large leaf of lettuce, half of it hanging over her lip.
She knows she should probably push the rest of the leaf into her mouth but she's just so comfortable like this—hey there's a thought, does Regina know any transfiguration spells? Maybe she could live out the rest of her time as a caterpillar. Seems like an easier life, right?
Regina interrupts before she can ponder on that thought any further however, "So if you're going to be drinking your weight in alcohol every night, might I suggest you start recycling the bottles at least?"
Emma stops crunching on the lettuce leaf, she looks back over to the living room coffee table—it's an open plan layout—and can see everything has been cleaned up, no more broken glass, empty bottles or beer cans. "I take it you saw the bottles in the trash then?" she asks somewhat ashamed.
"I did," Regina says, voice sharp. She's slightly glaring at Emma and Emma can tell she's annoyed.
"It's not every night," Emma mutters sheepishly.
"Fine. Every other night," Regina offers. Emma opens her mouth to protest but whatever she was going to say dies on her tongue when Regina arches her brow throwing her a pointed look. Emma bristles then, grumbling quietly to herself, a small pout on her face. Regina seems to melt at that, eyes softening, watching Emma in a way she doesn't know how to act around.
"Emma," Regina calls gently, "I know you're hurting, but it isn't good for you. This behaviour isn't healthy." She sighs then softly asks, "Do you want to talk about it?"
"I'm fine Regina," Emma says looking down at her salad; making no attempt to eat it. "There's nothing to talk about. Hook left. That's it."
"That's it?" Regina echoes. "Hook just... left?"
"Yeah."
"And how does that make you feel?"
Emma doesn't answer for a few moments losing herself to her thoughts, "I don't know. Angry."
"Just angry? You're not, I don't know, sad?"
"No. I'm angry. Absolutely furious even. Because I should have known better," Emma sighs then quietens. "People like me are meant to be alone Regina. I know that." She closes off then. Curls her body into itself, focus shifted entirely onto the salad in front of her as she stabs her fork into a piece of chicken.
Regina doesn't push her further and Emma is grateful. Knows she has retreated into a quiet place, somewhere locked up deep within her heart and she doesn't want to open up again.
Not today at least.
...SQ...
It takes Emma 20 minutes to finish off her salad, nibbling away slowly and taking dainty little bites, where it would usually take her at least half that time to polish off the plate. Regina has been sitting and watching her patiently, her features morphing into distress the longer Emma takes.
Emma feels horrible, never wants to be the reason behind Regina's worry. But she can't help it. She's not really hungry if she's honest, hasn't been for some time. But she's not about to refuse food Regina has cooked specifically for her, no matter how uncomfortable it makes her. She never wants Regina to second-guess her abilities in anything, least of all cooking.
Regina's eyes dart over to the clock on the far wall a couple of times and when her phone pings in her pocket Emma realises why.
"Do you want to come have dinner with us at the mansion?" Regina asks cautiously. "Zelena will be there too," she quickly adds on and Emma wants to kick herself.
It's never been a normal occurrence for them to have family dinners, just Henry, Emma and Regina. Though Regina's offered a few times, Emma always declined finding some sort of excuse to ensure she was never around Regina for too long, not wanting to bother her. She remembers the relief she had felt when Regina had stopped asking altogether.
But now, as she watches Regina, hope and fear filling those beautiful brown eyes, she realises how selfish she'd been. Regina probably thought Emma didn't like spending time with them, just the three of them and—Emma gulps, shakes her head instantly, tears fill her eyes but never fall. Regina deserves better than this. And she can't get that here. So Emma comes out with the first excuse she can think of,
"Henry can't see me like this."
Regina nods her head, Emma watches as her mask falls into place, before she stands and looks down at her, "Promise me you'll be careful Emma." And Emma can't stop the hope that builds, she can't do this. She—"I'll come check on you in the morning," Regina says before Emma can begin to spiral.
Emma closes her eyes, wills the deafening thoughts to quieten for a moment, "Please don't," she manages, standing abruptly from the chair, spinning around and taking her plate over to the sink. "I sent my mom that text for a reason. I don't want to see anyone." Including you, she wants to say. But that would be a lie. And Emma can't lie to Regina, can never say something as hurtful as that to Regina. Especially not now, after everything they've been through.
A few moments pass before she hears Regina sigh quietly, "I understand."
Emma doesn't turn around until she hears the tell-tale whoosh of Regina's magic. And then she sinks to the floor in a heap. Rocks herself back and forth and wills herself to be okay.
...SQ...
For the second time that day Regina finds herself outside of Emma's home.
Once again she paces back and forth on Emma's porch, stopping every now and then to look down at the small silver key in hand.
It's dark out now—well past midnight and an appropriate time to just show up like this—but Regina hasn't been able to stop worrying about Emma since she'd left. Even Henry had noticed she'd been distracted after she'd almost burnt dinner. She'd retired to her study, immersing herself in work in the hopes that it would provide solace from her woes. But after spending hours staring at a blank word document, the pile of paperwork on her desk not reducing in the slightest, she'd given up and resorted to coming to check on Emma. Just to make sure she's okay.
The constant loud creaking of the rickety boards beneath her feet gives a clear indication of her restlessness and Regina knows she's simply being too loud for this time of night. Taking one big inhale followed by an exhale, she slips the key into the keyhole and makes her way inside.
The toasty warmth inside Emma's home calms Regina's nerves and she wonders perhaps if it is to do with actually being closer to Emma than anything to do with the actual temperature. The fireplace is lit in the living room. Bright yellow-orange flames blanket the surrounding area in a soft glow, their dance casting shadows on the walls and floor. And there, just off to the side in a little alcove, is Emma. She's perched on the window sill, seemingly looking outside, but Regina can't tell properly from all the way over here.
She moves closer to find Emma leaning against the glass and fast asleep. Regina quietly chuckles at that. Emma may have changed significantly from who she was to who she is now, but her ability to fall asleep just about anywhere continues to impress Regina to no end.
She feels a pang in her chest as she watches Emma. It hadn't been so evident to Regina at first, how Emma was changing, making herself seem smaller and unimportant and when she was able to put her finger on it she hadn't understood how it could have escaped her notice.
Regina had always wanted to talk to Emma, sensed something between them that felt like more since the day they'd met. And that feeling only grew over the years until she had no control over it whatsoever. But she could never get close enough to Emma because she constantly had her walls up around Regina and Regina didn't understand why. Hoped that one day she'd get through to Emma and reach some semblance of understanding. But then Hook came into the picture and Regina had lost all hope of that ever happening.
All she knew was that she needed Emma in her life in whatever capacity, so she took whatever crumbs she could get, knowing that life without Emma would be far worse.
A sinking feeling nestles itself deep within the pit of her stomach when she remembers the impending future, Emma's destiny as the Saviour and the prophecy that she will die. Regina isn't able to comprehend what life will be like without Emma in it. Henry will be devastated. But Henry is strong, stronger than Regina has ever been. He'll mourn and heal and grow even stronger. Whereas Regina? Regina never has been strong. Lets her anger and pain get the best of her until it sets the world and all within it on fire, leaving nothing but ash and dust in its wake.
No. Regina has never been strong.
But she's getting there slowly.
She thinks on the progress she has made so far, how it would have been impossible without Henry and the Charmings—who were reluctant at first but began to believe in her all because of Emma, Emma who has always believed in her and tried to see the good in her. What if without Emma she simply isn't strong enough to fight against the darkness that plays at the edges of her mind and heart? What if without Emma—
Emma stirs then, her brows knitting together as she attempts to adjust her position to get more comfortable and Regina knows she can't keep thinking about the future like this. Has to focus on the now, and right now Emma needs her; can't stay sleeping in this position. She gently starts to shake Emma attempting to coax her into waking up, "Emma? Emma, come on wake up."
Emma stirs again and squints up at Regina, her eyes almost fully shut and Regina knows that's the best she's going to get out of her. She slips an arm around Emma's waist, slings one of Emma's arms over her shoulder and attempts to help her get up to move over onto the sofa facing the fireplace. Emma grumbles and almost whines in her half-asleep state, making her opinion on this matter very evident, but doesn't protest more, allowing Regina to help her move.
Regina scowls struggling to move a now almost asleep Emma, "There is a perfectly comfortable couch over here," she grits out as Emma leans all her weight onto her causing her to stumble slightly. "Why were you even sitting at the window?" she huffs. Unable to carry Emma's weight any longer, she drops her down onto the sofa in a heap.
Emma simply mumbles, "Snowflakes," before nestling into the cushions and dozing back off and Regina realises she must have fallen asleep watching the snowfall outside. She places a small fleece blanket atop Emma, watching as Emma burrows into it, the light from the fireplace illuminating her features and she just looks so tranquil like this, a look Regina hasn't seen on her face in a long time.
Regina moves to sit beside her, observing her for a few moments to make sure she's alright. She wonders momentarily at what this must look like—do friends watch each other sleep like this?—but shoos away the thought when she realises she doesn't particularly care as long as she can make sure Emma is okay.
Besides it's not like they've ever been conventional friends anyway. Their friendship has always been a little stilted; each would sacrifice their life for the other without second thought but when it comes to the mundane things of friendship, they've always been sorely lacking in that department.
Regina thinks that perhaps it's to do with who they are. They've each endured such pain at the hands of others—even themselves—that they're jaded in their own way. They have so much in common yet struggle to talk about those commonalities, about the emotions and the meaningful things. And that's just another thing they have in common. But she would never trade this—whatever 'this' is that she has with Emma—for another more normal friendship. Because this is theirs and no one can take that from them.
Except death she thinks. Would she still hold the title of best friend if said friend is no longer here? "Stop," Regina chides herself quietly, pushing those increasingly regular thoughts away.
A crinkle appears on Emma's forehead then and she lets out small whimpers in discomfort, something clearly bothering her in her sleep. And Regina feels a wave of protectiveness overcome her. Moving forward she presses the pad of her thumb onto Emma's forehead smoothing out the line and gently kisses the skin there.
Emma calms immediately and Regina sits back, sighing in relief.
Emma isn't going anywhere, not while Regina is here.
...SQ...
Emma blinks open her eyes, slowly coming to. She feels a certain peace wash over her, one she hasn't felt her whole life, but doesn't understand why. It's then she notices a weight on her side. Turning her head slightly, she finds silky dark tresses tickling her chin, and knows immediately of the reason - Regina.
A quick glance at the clock tells her it's 4am. She has no idea how she ended up asleep on the couch—she'd been sitting watching the snow hadn't she?—Regina curled up next to her; both of them squished together on the small sofa.
Regina must have come back to check on her.
Emma suddenly can't breathe. Feels her lungs close up at the kind gesture. She wants to move away, get as far away from Regina as possible. Can't let herself get close to Regina, not if she doesn't want to hurt her—which she will inevitably because she always hurts the ones she loves most, even when she tries her best not to.
But she's just awoken to Regina's hair in her face and despite everything; she can't help but inhale deeply. Tries to breathe Regina in as much as she can because Regina is asleep and Emma just wants—no, needs—these few moments. Tiny nuggets of treasure she can cherish for the rest of the little time she has left to live without bothering Regina.
Regina snuggles closer into Emma's side—because of course she's a snuggler—half-sprawled across Emma's body, her face in the crook of Emma's neck; breath tickling the skin there. It feels like a gentle caress and Emma's body temperature rises at the proximity, the thought that if Regina just moved an inch closer she would be kissing Emma's neck.
Regina stirs again and Emma, at the fear of being discovered this close to her, springs away, quickly sitting up. It's then she notices Regina's state. She's still in her heels, makeup slightly smudged but still ever present on that exquisite face. She jumps up off of the sofa then. Careful not to wake the sleeping beauty, she scrambles to make Regina more comfortable, slowly removing her heels; massaging the soles of her feet a little. Regina hums softly and Emma allows herself a smile before placing the heels to the side of the sofa out of the way.
She watches Regina's face then. Regina is beautiful, of that there's no question. But Emma would rather not her skin become irritated from the makeup; doesn't want her to feel any pain no matter how little. She grabs some makeup wipes from the downstairs bathroom cabinet—washes her hands too—but when she gets back to Regina's side, nerves get the better of her. She decides it best if Regina cleans the makeup off herself rather than waking up to find Emma doing it.
"Regina? Wake up," Emma tries softly, but Regina doesn't move. "You need to remove your makeup. Gina?" it's out of her mouth before she even registers it. And suddenly she's not so sure if this is such a good idea. Dammit why did Regina come back to check on her? Emma has been doing so well so far, making sure to keep her distance, her emotions in check; that there's always space between them. But after not even a full day spent with Regina she's already addressing her with a nickname? A term of endearment? "Crap," she mutters, annoyed at herself.
"Mm, five more minutes Henry," Regina murmurs quietly.
Emma sighs watching her sleeping form. Exhaustion is evident in her features and Emma's brows furrow together at that. Wishes she could take away all of Regina's troubles. Another sigh and Emma moves to sit beside her.
She tenderly begins removing Regina's makeup. Regina doesn't move, doesn't even react and Emma exhales in relief happy that she isn't bothering Regina. She wipes around her eyes, over the sharp plane of her nose; down to her lips. Thinks about how once upon a time all she'd wanted to do was crash her own thin ones against the luscious plump ones in front of her. Bite down on them and make Regina bleed and hurt like the cutting remarks that would often pass through this perfect mouth of hers.
Emma glides her thumb over Regina's bottom lip and her tongue darts out to wet her own, nibbling at her bottom one when she thinks about how she would kiss Regina now. It wouldn't be very gentle but it definitely wouldn't be as harsh as she once pictured it either.
Because Regina is different now.
Has softened overtime. Someone who—if Emma was worthy enough—she'd cradle and hold and keep close to her heart and be able to love every second of doing so without feeling guilt eat her up.
Emma's heartbeat quickens the more she thinks of Regina. How, like a phoenix, she has risen from the ashes. Turned into someone who grows through her pain, emerging stronger than ever. A fierce woman who now spreads compassion rather than devastation. Someone whose anger no longer scorches the world, but instead protects her loved ones, fire in her eyes as she—
Emma gasps a sharp intake of breath, watches as those mesmerising eyes blink open slowly and she startles, "S-Sorry," she says moving back slightly; dropping her hand away.
Regina frowns at her, a few moments pass as she watches Emma through hooded eyes before giving her a small smile, curling up into a little ball, burrowing further into the cushions and falling back to sleep.
...SQ...
Regina wakes late the next day, just before noon, feeling like she's awoken from the best sleep she has ever had. She certainly hadn't planned on falling asleep beside Emma when she'd come to check on her, but she's grateful nonetheless - it's been a while since she's slept so well. Her newfound peace comes crashing down, however, when she finds a note left by Emma saying that she's gone out and for Regina not to worry as she'll be back eventually.
Eventually? Well that could mean years, decades even. So naturally Regina worries.
And who can blame her really? Emma does have a tendency—not to mention a history—of behaving recklessly and running when things overwhelm her. So Regina spends the next few hours pacing back and forth, wrestling with herself as to whether she should cast a locator spell and hunt Emma down or allow her the time and space she needs. However long that may be.
Henry comes over sometime after that—she has no idea when exactly, everything seems to be blurring together, but it's dark out when he arrives—and manages to talk her out of casting a spell on the town line just to make sure Emma can't leave. If she hasn't already that is. And Regina doesn't think she'd actually go through with it, knows how much Emma's freedom means to her. But she's grateful Henry had talked her down and that she at least gets to spend some time with him.
It calms her enough for Henry to feel comfortable leaving her alone again, muttering something about them both acting like a married couple before he goes. Regina doesn't really pay it much attention; too busy wondering where Emma is.
Henry is safe, Emma might not be.
It's a few hours later when she hears it. Her arm is growing tired from throwing continuous fireballs into the fireplace in an attempt to contain her nervous energy and not do anything rash and the quiet noise gives her pause. She stops what she's doing to look around in an attempt to decipher what it is, straining her ears in the process. But soon enough the noise becomes unmistakeable – someone is... laughing? Regina stands up in an instant as the sound of giggling filters in from outside. Coming from Emma's backyard it seems.
She makes her way out there, the sound growing louder as she gets closer to the source and as she recognises who the voice belongs to, her anger begins to rise the closer she gets. It overpowers the sense of relief she feels at Emma being okay because why did she have to run in the first place? Regina knows, she really does, that when Emma is feeling overwhelmed this is what she does, but dammit everything is affecting her more than usual as of late. She blames it on Emma's impending death sentence.
She steps out into the garden, feels the cold air bite into her skin, and when Emma comes into view her anger dies down from a raging wildfire to dying embers. Emma plops down onto the ground into a starfish shape atop the snow. She lets out a little giggle, burrowing into it and proceeds to make a snow angel.
Regina is momentarily stunned into silence as she watches her from afar. It seems this isn't the first snow angel Emma has made tonight, but rather one of many. The rest of the snow in the garden is full of such indentations. Emma laughs up into the open air then, startling Regina and Regina doesn't think she's ever seen someone so happy to be out in the freezing cold like this. Her face feels stiff and her hands are turning numb and she can tell how the cold stings at Emma too, making her pale skin red and raw. She steps forward subconsciously, wanting to offer her body heat to help warm Emma up.
Emma starts throwing snow up into the air, laughing as it sprinkles back down onto her before her shoulders slump and she catches a sob in her throat. Regina feels a pinch in her chest, a burn in her throat and takes another step closer, wanting to comfort Emma this time.
But Emma jumps up then, runs around in the snow, her movements light and clumsy, ever the goofball Regina had suspected her to be once upon a time. And Regina feels the ache in her throat build, knows Emma's laughter won't last, but suddenly gasps in awe, having recognised a tiny glimpse of the Emma who first came to Storybrooke.
Like greeting an old friend after years of being apart it fills her with both happiness and pain and she wishes she could see more of this Emma. Feels her chest swell as the moonlight glints off of Emma's features highlighting them with a soft white glow and Regina can't help her own laugh at the blonde's antics. It just bubbles out of her at seeing Emma so happy and carefree after what feels like far too long.
Emma notices her, stopping her wild movements; smile never faltering and Regina simply stands smiling back. A sharp gush of wind blows at her then. She feels it pierce her skin and snaps out of her daze, quickly realising Emma's usual red leather jacket is nowhere in sight—yes she's never been a fan, but she'd rather her eyes burn from seeing Emma wearing that hideous monstrosity than see Emma suffer from hypothermia—and her smile drops immediately.
At seeing Regina's smile fade, Emma's does too. "I'm not drunk," she says defensively, crossing her arms over her chest, skin flushed pink from the icy temperature.
"I didn't say—"
"Why did you come back here?" Emma cuts her off, huffing loudly, "I told you not to."
"Yes, well, I said I understood. I didn't say I was going to stay away."
Emma stays quiet for a moment, looks conflicted before her resolve seems to set and she grits out, "I don't need you here Regina. Just go." Her bottom lip trembles slightly as the words leave her mouth and she turns around facing away from Regina; holding her arms closer to herself.
Regina feels the words like a stab to the chest clawing their way up her throat, wonders whether her presence here is really what set Emma off again. She was so happy and free a moment ago, sure Regina knew it wouldn't last, knew because Emma has been hurting for so long and pain like that doesn't just disappear into thin air. But maybe—no, this isn't about her. It's about Emma.
She gulps down the pain and instead focuses on her fury, "Isn't it clear by now Ms. Swan? I will always be here for you whether you say you need me or not," she states matter-of-factly.
She gasps in shock when Emma crumples to the ground a mere second later, her shoulders shaking as she lets out silent sobs. In an instant Regina is beside her, "Emma? Emma, I—" but she cuts herself off. Opting to simply scoop Emma up, holding her in her arms. Regina's blouse catches Emma's tears and she holds her tighter hoping it offers her the comfort she needs.
She watches as Emma grits her teeth and squeezes her eyes shut tight. Before she gulps audibly, turns and snuggles her face into Regina's chest. Regina doesn't know what's going through her mind, wishes Emma would speak to her, give her some kind of indication, but she knows Emma has always been someone who struggles to talk about her pain.
Regina exhales, presses a soft kiss to the top of Emma's head into her hair. It's here that she thinks back on the first time she'd made the same gesture. She hadn't missed the look of surprise and fear and a tiny sliver of hope floating about in those sea-green eyes as she'd moved away after kissing Emma's temple.
Doesn't understand why Emma had cowered slightly, looked like she was waiting for Regina to recoil and be disgusted by the kiss. But Regina wasn't—she isn't. It feels like the most natural thing in the world for her to do. Because this is Emma and Emma means more to Regina than she can ever really put into words.
She begins to brush her hand through Emma's hair and feels Emma curl into her, alternates between gentle strokes through long blonde tresses, revelling in the way they feel against her fingers, and almost lingering caresses down the centre of Emma's neck.
As Regina continues to trace her fingertips through Emma's hair, she reminisces how it used to be. It hasn't escaped Regina's notice how Emma's hair—along with Emma herself—has become more muted and dull. How the colour is less striking, from bright yellow blonde to a colour so faded that Regina doesn't have a name for it. Her heart aches when she thinks about how Emma's hair now has less volume, taking up less space just as Emma now does too, always so careful with her movements and her actions so as not to draw so much attention to herself.
"I'm sorry Regina," Emma says quietly after quite some time has passed. "I didn't mean that."
"It's okay Emma," Regina whispers softly, rubbing small circles on Emma's back with her free hand, never stopping her other movements. Emma hums and Regina continues her soft touches for a while.
Emma remains unmoving, her breathing evened out a little and that's when Regina realises she's shivering slightly, still ice cold in her arms. Understanding their current position will do little to help Emma warm up; she prepares to poof them inside before remembering Emma's reaction yesterday in regards to the use of magic. She inhales before tentatively asking, "May I poof us inside? You need to warm up."
A few moments pass before Emma mumbles, "No magic Regina. Please," she adds on quietly. Regina nods and gently helps her stand before moving to go inside.
Once inside Regina runs a hot bath for Emma. And the outburst outside mere moments ago must have done wonders as Emma seems to feel comfortable enough to make a fuss about wanting bubbles. "It can't be a bath without bubbles Regina."
Regina doesn't question it and gives in of course.
Emma hops in, while Regina looks away allowing her to make herself comfortable. Regina hears a little yelp and whizzes around, feeling her momentary panic disappear and her heart flutter at the sight in front of her. Emma, in her attempt to sit comfortably, had very clearly slipped and now has bubbles on her nose and in her hair, a handful covering the top of her head, resting there like a crown.
Emma looks at her like a deer caught in headlights and Regina figures it's because the bubbles are doing little to hide her naked body. She sees the tips of Emma's ears tinge red and chuckles softly; doesn't know why it seems to bother Emma so much, never having pegged Emma as the modest kind. Then again Emma is changed now, very different to whom she was.
Emma quickly scoops up the bubbles from around her, drawing them closer to her body in an effort to cover up a little better and throws Regina a pout in response. Regina finds it absolutely adorable.
"Would you like anything else Your Majesty?" she asks glancing up at the bubbles atop Emma's head. "Perhaps a rubber ducky?" she sasses, happy to see Emma in a bit of a better mood. Emma frowns at her, confused for a second before she notices the bubbles on top of her head and looks back at Regina with bright eyes and a cheeky smile.
Regina rolls her eyes in fond amusement. She flicks her wrist and a little yellow rubber ducky appears in her hand. She wants to laugh at the nonsensicalness of it all. But when she looks up Emma is staring at the rubber ducky in her hand, a faraway look in her eyes. Sadness and tension lurk around the edges, and Regina knows Emma is very deeply hurting and magic is definitely one of the reasons behind it. Instantly the rubber ducky is gone in a cloud of purple smoke and Regina vows to do the best she can to help this woman she cares for so very deeply.
...SQ...
Moments pass by and Regina seems to get lost in thought as she observes Emma. Emma watches her unsure of what to do. Then Regina is moving forward, perches herself onto the edge of the bathtub and tenderly wipes the bubbles from Emma's nose. Emma feels herself shiver as Regina caresses the soft skin there.
"Do you need help washing?" Regina asks gently holding Emma's chin and looking her in the eyes.
Emma studies her for a moment, doesn't understand how Regina doesn't find this—whatever 'this' is that's happening between them—strange. Friends aren't supposed to act like this, are they? She desperately wants to know the answer, wants from Regina so many things – to answer all of her questions and stay with her and never let go; to forget about Emma and leave and never come back.
Most of all Emma just wants Regina.
And she knows she can't have her.
Not now. Not ever.
Not when there's so little time left.
Her want floods her chest with a dull ache, head throbbing and body feeling like it's being torn in half. She closes her eyes keeping the tears at bay and shakes her head. "No thank you," she manages quietly.
Regina simply nods in understanding, giving her a small smile and leaves to allow Emma some privacy.
...SQ...
Regina doesn't leave that night, texts Henry simply telling him that she'll be staying over at Emma's, that she'll be home as soon as she can, and for him to make sure Zelena doesn't get up to no good in her absence. She trusts Henry to look after her sister rather than the other way around – he is undoubtedly the more mature out of the two.
It's been quite some time now and Emma still hasn't left the bathroom. Regina is worried.
She makes her way into the bathroom and finds herself swooning at the sight of a freshly bathed Emma dressed in a yellow hoodie, polka dot pyjama pants and fuzzy socks sitting on the closed toilet lid falling asleep. As usual Emma's ability to fall asleep just about anywhere continues to impress Regina. In her half-asleep state Emma almost topples off of the toilet and Regina rushes forward helping her up and leading her to her bed.
Emma burrows herself under the covers until only her eyes can be seen, the rest of her body hidden beneath the duvet. Regina watches her from where she stands beside the bed and chuckles softly because Emma really is adorable like this. Her big green eyes gaze up at Regina, full of wonder and intrigue and something else she can't quite pinpoint and it's moments like this that make Regina think that Emma really is just a child in a woman's body, craving love and protection and care.
Regina doesn't miss the way Emma watches the Charmings with baby Neal. How she looks like she yearns to be fawned over and looked after, caressed and held by them, loved in a way she's much too old to be loved like now. Her heart goes out to Emma and she feels the guilt claw away at her insides.
She moves to leave, needing to get away from Emma, to quieten those thoughts. Push them back into the box they belong in where she can quietly sift through them another day—preferably somewhere far away from Emma—when Emma grasps tight hold of her arm pulling her to sit on the edge of the bed. Emma offers her a look in her half-asleep state, a look of fear, a look of… guilt. And Regina understands, Emma is still blaming herself for her previous words.
Regina moves forward, strokes Emma's face and plants a small kiss to her forehead in an effort to soothe her. "Ssh mi amor. Rest now," she whispers softly. Emma hums quietly in response, gaze remaining focused on Regina's face. Soon enough her eyes give in; lashes decide to meet, and she is quickly welcomed into the sweet land of nod.
Regina sits for a while stroking her fingers through silky blonde tresses. She loves the way Emma's hair feels between her fingertips, how it tickles the skin there before soothing it straight afterwards. After sometime, once she's sure Emma is sleeping soundly, she moves out of the room.
It's too early to sleep yet, so Regina decides to go downstairs to make herself some hot cocoa. On her way, however, she passes by what she deems is Emma's guest room and stops in her tracks when she swings her head through the open door for a peek.
The room is basically a home library. Floor to ceiling shelves line three out of the four walls brimming with books. And the fourth wall, the one opposite the doorway, is designed to be a reading nook window, complete with a comfortable looking sofa bed covered in a multitude of plump pillows and soft plushies. Regina gasps as she takes in the sight before her, illuminated by the moonlight filtering in through the large window.
Once upon a time she never would have taken Emma to be the kind of person to have so many belongings. Knowing Emma was never the type to settle down in one place long enough. Always ready to up and leave at a moment's notice. As time went on, it warmed Regina's heart when she had begun to notice that Emma had started to accumulate more belongings, clothes, extra pairs of shoes, everyday things that to anyone else wouldn't seem so significant. And really they weren't. But the fact that Emma possessed such things was.
Because it meant that Emma was staying. That she was no longer afraid to acquire something just to have it taken away later. She was opening herself up to the possibility of building a life and a family and—Regina feels a sudden twinge in her chest.
This is Emma's home.
Somewhere where, after a lifetime of running, she has stopped and stayed. One she had shared with Hook, a place she would have built on further and after saving her from her impending death sentence—which they will save Emma because Regina will not stop until she has exhausted every single option under the sun—maybe Emma would have possibly even started a family with Hook. But now—
Regina feels her anger bubble, spiking through her body and burning her insides. She can feel old rage coming back, wishes to capture the pirate, make him bleed, rip his heart out and crush it in front of him because how dare he do this to Emma? Instead she takes a deep breath, knows anger will not help in this situation and swears with each breath she takes that she will never leave Emma's side. Will do the best she can to make sure Emma knows her worth because that's what best friends do.
Right?
Cocoa long forgotten, Regina moves towards the reading nook. She switches on the lamplight beside the sofa bed. It casts a dim glow over the room, setting the mood and she suddenly feels giddy at being able to spend the rest of her night here, surrounded by books with Emma just next door.
It's the little things in life.
Regina quickly moves to pull out the bed turning it into a double and notices a book resting beside one of the pillows. Picking it up, she delicately runs her fingertips over the spine.
"Rumi," she says smiling. Regina can tell by the way the loose pages move as she flips through, the way the book feels soft and worn—a sign of a book that has been well-read throughout the years—that this must be a favourite of Emma's, one that is indeed beloved to her and Regina can't blame her really.
A second later she's snuggling into the blankets, the subtle scent from Emma's loungewear—she'd borrowed a hoodie and some leggings from Emma's wardrobe after getting her own clothes wet in the snow and deciding she'll not use magic whilst staying with Emma—mixes with the scent of the duvet and she's suddenly surrounded by the calming smell of a combination of floral scents. Regina can't put her finger on the exact scents present but she knows it's distinctly Emma. It soothes her, allowing her to let go of the last remnants of tension from the day.
Only for tonight at least.
She flips the book open and in an instant is sucked into a whole other world.
...SQ...
Emma comes in after some time to find Regina lost deep in a book. She sits beside Regina on the sofa bed, facing her sideways. Emma notices Regina look over at her but she is too busy staring at the book, tired eyes wide with wonder. Rumi - of course Regina is a fan. And just that little detail settles something within Emma, provides her with a sense of nostalgia.
Emma grew up with Rumi. She'd spent many a day in the library hiding away from the world, befriending him, laughing with him and crying with him as she fell in love with his words. He is her oldest friend and will always hold a dear place in her heart. Therefore it brings her great joy that she gets to witness this meeting between her oldest friend and one of her greatest loves. Feels yet another thread inextricably connect her to Regina and she closes her eyes, attempts to commit the sight to memory, knowing it may be the only time she gets to see this before her fast-approaching death.
The reminder hurts, causes pain to flare up in her chest and makes her ache. She doesn't want to be strong right now, doesn't want to pretend it doesn't hurt because she's tired. So she does the only thing she knows will help. Moves her head so that it's resting on Regina's lap, curling into Regina's side, her body a little ball beside Regina's half-sitting form.
And they don't usually do this—never have before at least—the touching and the intimacy. But how strange is it that it doesn't feel strange? In fact, it feels like the most natural thing in the world.
Regina doesn't move for a moment and Emma worries she may have overstepped, is just about to move away when she feels Regina's hand run through her hair ever so softly. Emma continues to look at the book, her bright green eyes still wide as they stare at it from where she is snuggled into the blankets. She wants to look at Regina, to tell her thank you, to tell her so many things but she knows she can't speak right now without bursting into tears. Can't look at Regina without fear of the floodgates opening up as they did a few hours ago, afraid that if they do a second time she will have no way of closing them at all.
"I want to see you," Regina says, breaking Emma out of her thoughts. "Know your voice. Recognise you when you first come 'round the corner. Sense your scent when I come into a room you've just left." And Emma recognises this passage immediately; it's one of her most favourites, highlighted in a faded yellow. "Know the lift of your heel, the glide of your foot. Become familiar with the way you purse your lips then let them part, just the slightest bit, when I lean in to your space and kiss you. I want to know the joy of how you whisper "more"."
Emma lets out a tiny gasp, her eyes shut tight crinkling around the edges, fighting her tears as well as sleep. Not wanting to miss even a syllable from Regina because any sound at all coming out of that mouth feels like music to her ears. It's here that Emma realises how much she's going to miss these moments; these times with Regina. How much she's come to cherish them and her heart aches, knowing that soon enough everything will be different; will go back to exactly how it was.
She'll no longer be able to snuggle into Regina like this, will never have late night conversations or share inside jokes or anything remotely more, not when there's so little time left. Not when Emma is still Emma. Because Regina deserves better and Emma knows that, really she does. And she also knows she should be happy, grateful that at least Regina will still be a huge part of the little bit of life she has left.
But it's not enough.
Emma wants more.
She doesn't want Regina to leave. Wants to be selfish and ask Regina to stay. Because there's so little time left and she doesn't want to be alone and Regina is here, she's always here and—maybe she could be brave, just for once. She could just take what she wants, could simply focus on the bad so much, let it overwhelm her to the point where Regina will have no choice but to stay with Emma so that she won't be alone.
But no.
Regina deserves better.
Emma hasn't missed the constant worry in Regina's eyes, the ever-present tension in her jaw whenever she looks Emma's way. And Emma knows she can't do that. Not to this woman. Not now. Not ever.
She blinks rapidly a few times to push the tears back, takes a deep breath to gather herself and then snuggles further into Regina's side—she'll allow herself this moment, knowing it will be one of the last. Soon enough, Emma's eyes finally give in and she can feel herself slowly lose this battle with sleep. Soft lips press against her forehead accompanied by a quiet, "Sleep well darling," it dulls the ache in her chest slightly and when Emma succumbs to sleep, head resting on Regina's lap, even she doesn't know.
...SQ...
When Emma wakes she finds the soft object she's resting her head on is no longer Regina's thigh but a pillow from the sofa bed. Regina is gone and Emma realises she must have left some time ago given how Emma doesn't feel as well rested as she did the last time she'd slept beside Regina. She feels a twinge start to pull in her chest, but quickly quashes it as this is for the best.
Regina can't stay. Emma knows that.
It's just then that she realises she can smell food - breakfast. And her treacherous heart betrays her, skipping a beat at knowing Regina is still here. Her mind agrees with her heart soon enough and she finds she's already groggily making her way downstairs before she can do anything to convince herself otherwise.
So focused on wanting to see Regina again as soon as possible, Emma makes no effort whatsoever to attempt to fix what she knows is a dishevelled appearance. She clumsily makes her way downstairs, tripping and quickly righting herself and stops at the foot of the kitchen when her eyes find the woman they've been searching for so desperately since she first opened them today.
Regina moves around the kitchen like the Queen she is, with elegance and grace, and Emma thinks that only she could make cooking in a kitchen she has barely set foot in before yesterday look this good. She moves towards the stove flipping what Emma smells is a chocolate chip pancake and Emma's breath catches at the sight before her.
Rays of sunlight filter in through the window, creating a halo around Regina; bathing her in a soft warm glow. But it's Regina's smile, as she quietly hums to herself placing the pancake on top of a stack and turning the stove off, that causes Emma's chest to bloom with hope and ache with dread all at once.
Regina carries the plate over to the table, drizzling syrup onto the stack and gives everything a once-over, checking all is okay. As Emma watches her, she catches sight of her reflection in the toaster on the countertop beside the sink and her eyes widen. She moves closer to it—Regina still hasn't noticed her thank goodness—and squints to get a better view of herself. Immediately she becomes aware of just how much she doesn't want Regina to see her like this. God knows what her hair is doing, she's sure if she looks close enough she might spot a bird or two pop out of the blonde nest atop her head.
Regina moves to turn then and Emma quickly scrambles to wipe the drool off of her chin and clear the crust from her eyes—there's nothing to be done for the hair, unfortunately. In her haste she accidentally pokes her eyeball and yelps, loses her balance and stumbles.
Before she can tumble to the floor however, Regina is there, hands wrapped protectively around Emma's upper arms helping her to stand upright and keeping her rooted to the spot. And it's fitting really, how Emma knows—feels it deep within her soul—that she could just float away; spin out into space for eternity, if Regina didn't anchor her. Because there has always been something keeping Emma close to Regina, tethering her and keeping her grounded.
Regina gently squeezes Emma's arms pulling her out of her thoughts and watches her. "Are you okay?" she asks, warm breath puffing onto Emma's lips. Emma can feel her throat close up, the concern in those eyes simply too much for her to handle at this moment. She wants to shake her head no, wants to move an inch forward—because that is how close in proximity they are—and place her arms around Regina knowing Regina will hold her and comfort her because that is what Regina does. Instead she nods and takes a step back, wills herself to smile.
It's clear her fake smile isn't fooling Regina, and really Emma should know that by now if she can read Regina so well then Regina must be able to do the same. Regina's eyes dart along her face and Emma feels it heat up a little, tries to distract herself by wondering what Regina must be thinking. Regina steps forward then, a small crease line between her brow and a little adoring smile on her lips and Emma's cheeks flare.
Dammit.
Regina leans in a little, the sunlight hitting her face perfectly at this angle and Emma finds herself swooning when it illuminates the flecks of gold in her eyes, highlighting the land mass existing within a sea of burnt caramel. Regina presses the pads of her fingertips just under Emma's eyes, wiping the skin there before swiping at the little delve at the corner of Emma's lip with her thumb.
Emma gasps in response and Regina smiles, "There. Now come on, breakfast," she says gesturing towards the table with her head before rinsing her hands. Emma mindlessly nods her head again and follows suit before facing the table but making no effort to move any closer.
"Well?" Regina says, waiting for Emma to move closer and sit. When nothing happens after a few moments Regina inches closer slowly, places her hands gently on Emma's shoulders and walks her to the table, plopping her down on the chair.
Emma furrows her brow as she stares at the plate stacked with pancakes and syrup sitting at the centre of the small table. The kind gesture isn't lost on her. She doesn't understand why Regina keeps doing things like this for her. They don't talk about how they both know Emma can cook for herself, because she has memories of being a good cook, because Regina gave those to her to ensure Henry was always well-fed when they'd parted a few years ago at the town line. And they don't talk about how Regina continues to cook for her anyway.
Regina chuckles softly, once again breaking Emma out of her thoughts, removing her hands from Emma's shoulders and moving the plate closer to her. "Since you endured my salad yesterday, I thought something a little more to your liking would be a better option today. However if you're not up for it I know a young teenage boy who would be more than happy to eat this on your behalf."
Emma looks up at her then, recognises the light teasing tone in Regina's voice, her beautiful eyes bright and sparkling with mirth and oh how Emma wishes she had more time. How she would stand and, not thinking of the repercussions, pull Regina close and kiss her lazily on the lips; revel in the feeling of being so close to her. Instead she gulps those desires down—she'll never be able to become a person worthy of Regina, not when there's so little time left—and begins to eat ever so slowly, savouring this meal as if it is her last.
Soon enough she feels Regina's fingers thread through her hair and her eyes close involuntarily enjoying the feeling of dainty fingertips tracing through her tresses and tickling her scalp. Regina leans away from her for just a moment and then she's back and running what sounds like a hairbrush through Emma's hair and Emma can't help but wonder where she even got a hairbrush from anyway.
"No magic," Regina says quietly as if hearing Emma's thoughts and reassuring her. Emma can feel Regina part her hair through the middle and then the hairbrush is placed down onto the table in front of her and her eyes widen. She gasps at the realisation that it's her hairbrush. From her upstairs bathroom, black and gold, but how—
"I considered you may well wish to eat before going to the bathroom so picked this up on my way downstairs this morning," Regina offers, nimble fingers twisting and pulling Emma's hair. And Emma feels her throat clog up for the umpteenth time today.
Emma's face falls and she gulps back tears; focuses solely on the stack of pancakes in front of her. While Regina, standing behind her, continues to trace her fingertips through Emma's hair, braiding it for her so that it stays out of her way.
By the time Regina's hands are down the middle of Emma's back, holding the blonde braid gently, Emma has lost what feels like a lifelong battle of keeping in her despair. Everything that has built up within her for such a long time comes crashing down. She tries to stop it as soon as the first tear falls but the floodgates are open and there's no closing them now.
Regina's eyes widen momentarily before she slowly turns Emma around by the shoulders. "It's okay Emma," she soothes, pressing a tender kiss to Emma's brow, "Let it out mi amor."
Emma stands abruptly; throws herself at Regina. Wrapping her arms tightly around Regina's neck she clings on for dear life and cries into Regina's shoulder. There's a split second where she thinks she can stop this. Can hide her face in Regina's chest, gather herself and go back to keeping everything inside where it can hurt no one but her. But then Regina is cradling her, holding her close and surrounding her with the warmth and safety she has craved her entire life.
And it's too much.
She can't do this.
Not anymore. Not when there's so little time left.
It doesn't take long for the room to be filled with Emma's choked sobs. She's hysterical now, her knuckles white, grasping hold of Regina so tightly; too afraid to let go. Regina's blouse is drenched at the shoulder and continues to soak up her tears. Emma has no idea what she's even saying, save for a few words: 'Hook,' 'Perfect daughter,' 'Not good enough,' 'Saviour,' 'Death sentence.'
She feels Regina squeeze her tighter at that word, pressing her face into Emma's neck and taking deep breaths as if she's willing herself not to cry. And that makes Emma ache even more, angry at herself that she's unintentionally causing Regina such sorrow. She wants Regina to know how sorry she is, wants to apologise for all of it, everything, existing.
"You're not going anywhere Emma," Regina says into her neck and it's almost a growl, said with such ferocity that Emma doesn't know how to feel. Almost believes it if she's honest. Wishes with all her might they could stay together like this forever, never having to be apart. Because she wants to be selfish; because she knows Regina will do whatever it takes to keep her safe. But at what cost? What if in trying to save Emma, Regina ends up being the one to die?
No.
Emma will not allow it. She squeezes Regina even tighter, hoping it provides her some form of comfort.
They stay like that for a while. Regina shushing her and soothing her and Emma's shoulders have stopped shaking so hard, cries quietened but tears still falling. Regina starts humming something soft and quiet then. "I love this song," Emma murmurs absentmindedly. And then Regina starts to gently sway them as she continues to hum. Emma feels herself relax a little more, snuggles into her; feels Regina's silky dark tresses lightly scratching her face.
One of Regina's hands comes up to play with Emma's hair, fingers tracing through a long stray strand that must've fallen out when she was in hysterics. And suddenly reality comes slamming back into Emma with such force she pulls away from Regina in an instant, feels the loss of warmth so greatly she shivers and doesn't miss the look of hurt flicker across those exquisite features. But before Regina can say or do anything, Emma is gone, disappearing in a cloud of white smoke.
…SQ…
Emma ends up in a clearing on a cliff that overlooks Storybrooke, regrets leaving as soon as she gets there, Regina's hurt expression playing as a constant in her mind. Kicks the dirt angrily, and admonishes herself for using magic to get here when magic is the reason why she has so little time left in the first place.
But she had to get away from there, couldn't stay any longer. Doesn't understand how Regina is always so kind to her, giving her so much, treating her with such tenderness and care as if Emma is a precious glass object that must be handled delicately. How Regina cares for her and cooks for her, feeding her delicious and nutritious meals. How she brushes Emma's hair, braiding it and handling it ever so lovingly.
It makes Emma ache.
Ache for something she knows just isn't feasible. She can't feel this way. Not when there's so little time left. Can't afford to feel vulnerable like this. But Regina… Emma is helpless when it comes to feeling vulnerable around Regina. Because Regina always seems to pull out the parts of herself she tries so hard to hide away.
No.
This isn't going to end well. She knows this time she's had the last few days with Regina was just a fluke. Feels her anger at that build because she doesn't want it to be, but knows better. Grips tight hold of her hair and pulls and then—her anger gets the best of her and she comes to a conclusion. Knowing what she has to do right now she once again disappears in a cloud of white smoke.
…SQ…
Hours later when Emma returns home, walking quietly through the front door, she finds Regina sitting on the sofa and staring into the fireplace, worry etched all over her face. Emma moves to her, silently plonking herself down onto the sofa; sitting beside Regina. She can't make herself look at Regina, keeps her eyes downcast and focuses on the dance of the flames in front.
Regina seems to wait for Emma to say something, anything, but Emma can get no sound to leave her mouth. After another few moments she notices Regina startle when she turns to look at Emma and Emma knows why.
She's cut her hair. So short it's almost like a pixie cut.
Emma looks over at that moment. She's still not able to make eye contact with Regina, but sees the look on her face, doesn't miss the flitter of hurt and confusion before Regina's able to school her features. She wants to kick herself because she knew this was a bad idea as soon as the hairdresser had started. But her anger took over and she let it, never once protesting or telling him to stop.
Emma is sure Regina can see the regret and guilt evident on her face as Regina watches her in silence. She doesn't know what to do when Regina's eyes move up to her hair observing it for a few moments. But then Regina is looking back at her with so much understanding on her face. She moves her arms from her lap and Emma slowly inches forward hearing a soft breath of relief leave Regina.
Emma makes eye contact with Regina then and at the reassurance in those mesmerising brown eyes lays her head to rest on Regina's lap, bringing up her legs so that she's lying on the sofa; snuggling into the warmth of the top of Regina's thigh. She sighs softly when she feels Regina's fingers caress her head, playing with the now short locks. And Emma suddenly feels safe and at home once again.
"Te amo más que mis palabras podrían expresar," Regina whispers after some time has passed. And it sounds like something private, something Emma isn't supposed to hear. A prayer falling from her lips, a secret she's been coveting her whole life. But Emma doesn't understand. Wishes with all her might that she could but she's too afraid to ask. Too afraid to shatter the illusion of safety and hope—because this is all an illusion, Emma doesn't have time left; this can never be real— that builds in her heart as she recognises the first two words.
'Te amo'… that means I love you, doesn't it?
So maybe—no, no, no. Why would Regina say that? How could she? Emma needs to make this stop. But she doesn't want to. Her thoughts start back up 100mph and the noise becomes deafening. Emma's head is pounding, the pain excruciating. Perhaps this is the end, she thinks. Maybe this is the final battle – herself against her mind.
She makes no effort to fight it though—whatever 'it' is—and closes her eyes, a lone tear drop falling. She allows it; doesn't think she has anymore tears left to shed after her previous breakdown so it's not like another floodgate is going to open up.
Her only regret is that she won't be able to say goodbye to her family, to see them one last time, or spend time with them. It's fitting, Emma thinks. Her entire life all she has ever really wanted was a family. They'd lived without her their whole lives so far, only recently did Emma become a part of that. And Emma knew from the beginning that she'd only disappoint.
She wants to kick herself because this wouldn't have been an issue had she just left town in those first few months. But she'd become too attached to the kid, to the town and the people in it. And over the last few years things had started to get better, she was the Saviour and she was bringing back everyone's happy endings and then—she became The Dark One.
Never will she regret making that decision for Regina. But the looks of despair her parents gave her, the ones of pity by Hook and the rest of the townsfolk had reminded her that she's always going to disappoint because that's who she's always been.
But she couldn't run, not like she used to, because she had a family and friends and someway somehow she'd become someone who mattered to others. So she disappeared in a way that no one would notice, within herself. Understands now that maybe she's only ever existed to be someone who is known in passing. Someone who is utterly replaceable and entirely insignificant in the grand scheme of things. She can feel herself spiral out, she knows. But she's too tired to reign it all in and reason with herself at this point.
But there's one thing that Emma seems to have forgotten in all of this. Regina notices everything about Emma and she isn't alone right now. So overpowered by everything going on in her mind, she almost misses the press of velvety lips against her temple.
And just like that everything stops.
The silence is deafening and the anchor drops forcing Emma back to Earth with such strength her eyes shoot open and she jolts in place as if waking up from a nightmare. She wants to chuckle darkly—you can't wake up from a nightmare if you're living in one—instead she exhales deeply.
Because Emma is tired. Emma is exhausted.
And without another thought she curls into Regina, nestles her head into the warmth and safety provided and closes her eyes hoping sleep will provide a temporary reprieve.
…SQ…
When Emma wakes up a few hours later, Regina is nowhere to be seen. She panics, stumbling around the house looking for her. An ache builds in her chest, throat feeling sore - a scream lodged there.
Regina left.
And it's all Emma's fault.
She pushed Regina away and now she's gone and once again Emma is all alone. But Regina had said—no. Emma had misunderstood. Of course Regina wouldn't say that. She wants to rip out the remaining hair she has and—
The front door opens with a loud thud, bringing in the cool winter air with it and Emma shivers. Regina comes in, bags of groceries in hand, and Emma doesn't think twice before running to her and throwing her arms around her. Almost toppling poor Regina over as she embraces her in a tight hug.
"I thought you left. I-I thought I lost you too," and she doesn't care about the admission. She doesn't care about how much time is left. She needs to tell Regina this. Words have always been too complicated to describe what is between them. But Emma wants to try, has to, can no longer keep this truth inside of her, ready to take to the grave and keep undisclosed to Regina for all of eternity. Regina hugs her back as best she can without dropping the grocery bags and Emma sighs contentedly. "Please," she starts, tears falling uncontrollably, "I don't know what I'd do without you Regina," she finishes, burrowing her face into Regina's neck, inhaling her comforting scent.
"Emma, I'm not going anywhere," Regina replies in assurance, but Emma doesn't miss the undertone of ferocity in her voice. And Emma knows Regina is many things but most of all she's stubborn, so if anything at least Regina will never let go, even when Emma doesn't have the strength to hold on. It's with this thought she feels the razor sharp edges of doubt in her chest begin to smoothen out.
They remain like this for a few moments. Emma allows it to settle her. And soon enough moves back, reluctant to let go but understanding they can't stay like this forever. "Where did you go?"
"Henry promised Nick he would take my red velvet truffle cakes to his birthday party tomorrow," Regina explains, before suddenly turning slightly sheepish. "I'd forgotten until he called earlier. A quick search through your kitchen proved unsuccessful so I had to run to the store to grab the correct ingredients."
Emma frowns trying to formulate her thoughts, opens her mouth to say something before closing it, before opening it and then closing it again. Her frown deepens and she says, "Regina, red velvet cake takes absolutely ages to prepare." To which Regina just smiles at her like she knows something Emma doesn't and, well—that's probably true. That's always true.
Regina picks out a red velvet cake mix box from one of the bags and holds it up to show Emma. Emma raises an eyebrow as she takes it from her, "Never took you as one for cheating Madam Mayor," and Emma has no idea where that came from, but it feels good. A bit like the person she used to be.
She then follows Regina into the kitchen.
...SQ...
Regina begins taking the rest of the ingredients out and Emma walks in placing the cake box mix onto the countertop. She watches Emma, a small mischievous smirk on her lips and mirth filling her sea-green eyes and there she is, Regina thinks as she recognises a piece of Emma coming back to herself. Regina chuckles softly, "Not cheating dear. Just taking a shortcut."
Emma smiles then. A full toothy grin lighting up her eyes, something Regina hasn't seen in so long she almost wants to cry. And then Emma does something Regina would never have thought she'd do in a thousand years, she laughs.
A loud wholehearted laugh.
And Emma has always been beautiful, Regina thinks, but now… now Regina recognises the woman she once was residing within her. Not lost forever as she'd once thought.
Emma is simply radiant.
After all, all things become more beautiful when lit from within.
The thought alone makes Regina ache. Ache with the knowledge that perhaps something has been reignited within Emma and she feels hope bloom in her chest.
Emma shakes her head then, before proceeding to silently help. Regina doesn't have to ask her how she knows what to do, understanding that some of the memories she had given Emma all of those years ago back at the town line must still be intact.
Soon enough the cake tray is placed in the oven. Pots and utensils have been washed and countertops are being cleaned. Emma spots a streak of flour across Regina's cheek and without thought moves to clean it off. Regina however, is taken off guard and flinches away in response, unable to help it; it's just her first reaction.
Emma frowns and quickly moves away, mumbling an apology and Regina knows in an instant Emma will begin to overthink this - a few stray tears dropping onto her cheeks from her still red-rimmed eyes. Regina steps closer, places her hands on Emma's cheeks, cupping them and delicately wipes away her tears with her thumbs.
"I'm sorry Emma. It was just a bad reaction," she doesn't elaborate further, doesn't need to. Knows that Emma will understand what she means because there are certain traumas that can be recognised in others just by the way they act. And Regina is sure that Emma has suffered in the same way she has in this regard.
She feels Emma lean into her touch and sighs in relief. Presses her lips to Emma's forehead and stays there for a moment before moving back slightly. Emma closes her eyes and Regina presses a kiss to her right eye and then left, her nose and then a moment passes before she hovers her lips over Emma's. "May I kiss you?" she whispers against Emma's mouth. Emma squeezes her closed eyes even tighter, gulping before giving the tiniest nod.
And Regina presses her lips to Emma's ever so gently.
After a second Emma pulls back, "What are you doing Regina?"
Regina shrugs, not entirely sure how to respond if she's honest. But kissing Emma feels like the most natural thing in the world, so she keeps Emma's face cupped in her hands. "Do you want me to stop?"
Emma opens her mouth and Regina watches as a thousand different thoughts seem to run through her mind. Minutes pass before Emma finally speaks, "No."
"Then I won't."
"Just like that?"
"Yes Emma. Just like that." Emma breathes out a chuckle, then moves forward once again and their lips meet. This time when she moves back, she rests her forehead against Regina's, looks her in the eyes and whispers, "More."
And Regina beams; remembers back to the poem from the previous night, before she moves forward and kisses Emma once again. Emma wraps her arms around Regina's neck pulling her ever closer, deepening the kiss before Regina moves back a margin and rests her forehead against Emma's. "You are loved beyond words Emma. You're worth more than what you can give to other people. You deserve love too," she murmurs against Emma's mouth.
Her eyes are still closed but she feels Emma's smile accompanied by a sharp inhale. She knows Emma won't believe it. Can't believe it just yet, because Emma has had an entire lifetime to build a belief system that only thinks the worst of herself. So Regina simply vows to herself that she will make sure Emma will believe it one day and that she'll be there to witness it.
Regina opens her eyes to see Emma's are tight shut, tears falling but there's certain tranquillity evident in her features and Regina knows that this time Emma is crying for a whole other reason. She feels Emma pull her into a tight embrace; rest her face in the crook of Regina's neck where it meets with her shoulders. Emma snuggles into it, inhales deeply and presses a soft kiss to the warm skin there and Regina tightens her hold in response.
...SQ...
Emma isn't sure how long they've been embracing for, it feels like a lifetime but she knows it couldn't have been more than a few minutes given how the cake is still in the oven and the timer hasn't gone off yet.
She feels something ground her to this very spot, this very moment in time where the future is irrelevant and all that matters is now. Thinks that if she were to start sprouting roots then she could spend eternity here and she would be more than happy to do so with this being in her arms and whose arms she is currently residing in.
She'll allow herself this. Thinks if Regina is willing to be with her knowing that there's a possibility of losing her, then the least Emma can do is love Regina back as best she can.
It hits Emma then.
Even without a looming death sentence on her head, death has always been a possibility. Can come up and snatch you at any time it wishes. And oh how stupid Emma has been to waste so much time worrying about something in the future; forgetting to live in the now.
She has no idea where this wisdom is coming from all of a sudden, perhaps the prospect of Regina loving her back in a way she has always wanted her to has done something to her heart. Made it open up to the possibility that maybe she can heal, become a better person for her loved ones and even... For herself.
And it's this idea that brings forth a new hope within Emma, a new drive. Something sparks within her suddenly, clawing its way out; fighting back and refusing to stop. Emma no longer wants to put her life on hold because of something that may or may not happen in the future. She wants to live and thrive; not just survive.
It's going to take a lot of work. And she knows at some point there'll be a lot of opening up to do. It makes her nervous if she's honest but she's not dreading it as much as she did before. Because she understands now, simply from the example that Regina sets, that a lifetime of trauma can't be talked about and fixed completely in just a few days. It's a process, a journey. One that Emma wants to try to fully embark on with Regina by her side.
There's a lot of healing to do. A lot of talking and hopefully life saving—preferably Emma's being one of them. But for now she'll make the most of this time that she has today.
For tomorrow is a new day and with it comes the reminder that nothing is infinite.
Not even them.
...SQ...
Oh my goodness I hope you liked it! Thank you so much for checking this out and there'll be lots more fics (and art on Ao3) to come ❤️
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