A/N: Happy Sunday!
Regina didn't dare move. She had no idea what to say. She didn't think there was anything she could say. Not yet. Emma was clearly processing and wasn't ready to hear Regina's explanation. She stood, rooted to the spot, waiting as Emma's eyes slid slowly over each item.
What even was her explanation? If Emma asked her why, what was her answer? She didn't think anything she could say would be accepted by the blonde. She wouldn't somehow be able to convince Emma that this wasn't a big deal. Because Regina knew it was a big deal. At least, to Emma it was a big deal. Of course, Regina knew herself that this was just something she did to make her feel better. That's all, it was nothing more. And frankly, didn't she deserve to feel good? Even if it didn't last long? Even if it wasn't exactly real?
"Dad and Ruby told me you were using," Emma said quietly.
Regina looked up but Emma was still gazing at the floor. Maybe it was easier this way. Those expressive green eyes might make it too hard for Regina to say what she wanted, what she needed, to explain.
"It's nothing," she murmured. "Just something I did every now and then when I was working. Before, or after. To take the edge off. It made things easier, that's all. No big deal."
That got Emma's attention and she snapped her head up. "No big deal?" she repeated, incredulous. "Regina, this isn't a joint, this is heroin. I mean, it's seriously addictive and it destroys lives."
"I'm not addicted," Regina replied at once. "I don't need it or anything. It's just, you know, it makes me feel better when I'm having a bad time."
Emma cocked her head to one side and Regina had to look away from the mixture of sympathy and incredulity now gazing at her. Her eyes fell to the floor once more where her only needle was half hidden by the carpet. She briefly wondered whether she'd be able to clean it to reuse it later.
"If that's truly the case, if you're not addicted and you only need to take it to feel better, why did you need to take it this morning? You're safe now. No one can hurt you here, so why did you need to take drugs?" Emma asked quietly.
Regina shifted slightly where she stood, still unwilling to meet Emma's stare. She didn't have an answer for that. She tried to remember what it was that had driven her to pull out those items and start preparing them. What had it been that had made her think she wanted, not needed, another fix? Her mind was blank. All she could recall from before Emma had appeared in her doorway was how her arm itched and how her body was feeling restless. But that was nothing to do with the heroin, she was just nervous about the fact that she was hiding from Killian. Her fingers scraped up and down her forearm where the itch had returned.
"Regina, why didn't you tell me?" Emma asked, recognising that her earlier question was going to go unanswered.
The brunette scoffed at that, however. "Seriously? Like you'd have wanted to get involved if you'd known. Are you really telling me that you would have done exactly what you did yesterday if I'd mentioned that I sometimes, sometimes, use a little to relax in the evenings?"
"I would have," Emma shot back, arms folded. "Of course I would have helped. I can help, Regina. I think it's pretty damn clear that I'm willing to help you based on the last twenty-four hours but I can't help you if you don't tell me what you need help with, can I?"
"Well, I don't need help with this. It's not a problem, ok? It's just something I like to do sometimes. It feels good, that's all. But if you don't want me doing it in your house, I get it. I'll go."
She spun around and started to put her few measly possessions back into her handbag, tears pricking her eyes as she realised that she'd just evicted herself. A hand on her shoulder made her jump and freeze, head bowed. Emma's fingers curled slightly, squeezing her gently as if trying to reassure her although no words accompanied the gesture. Regina didn't dare turn around, not trusting herself to hold it together.
"Regina, you don't have to go," Emma said quietly. Regina tensed a little, not realising how close Emma was standing to her. "Sorry," the blonde added in reaction to how Regina's body had hardened to her proximity. She dropped her hand and took a step back. "But I'm serious, Regina. You don't have to leave and I don't want you to leave. I've said it before and I will say it again. I'll say it as often as you need to hear it until you believe it. I want to help you, Regina. Whatever that involves."
She took in a shuddering breath before turning back to meet those green eyes, her own sparkling with unshed tears. "Do you mean that?" came the whispered question, unsure and disbelieving.
"I do," Emma nodded, a soft smile on her lips. "I care about you, Regina. I want you to be safe and healthy and if that means we need to get you into a recovery program as well as keeping you safe from your uncle, then we'll do that too."
"Oh, I'm not an addict," Regina said quickly. "I don't need a program." The thought of sitting around in a circle with a group of strangers, listening to them telling stories about wild nights they'd had while using made her stomach turn over. She wasn't like them. She didn't need that. She could just not use it any more, she'd be fine. She wasn't addicted. Her body didn't need it. She'd be fine. She'd be fine. She'd be fine. She's be …
From far away, she could hear Emma saying her name but couldn't work out where the blonde was. The ground beneath her swayed and pitched like the deck of a ship. Her hands flew out in front of her to break her fall as her legs gave way, darkness gathering at the edge of her vision until, suddenly everything went black and still.
The screech of a seagull was what roused her, several hours later. Bleary-eyed, she peered over the lip of the duvet and took in the space. A bedroom. Familiar but not hers. It was a little smaller, much cleaner, and didn't smell of take out food. The events of the previous twenty-four hours drifted back to her slowly, information reformulating in her mind as her brain woke up. She jolted upright, head pounding at the sudden movement.
"Hey, hey, it's ok, you're safe."
She turned to see Emma sitting on a chair which had been carried in, evidently to allow the woman to sit vigil while Regina slept. "Emma," she groaned, sinking back onto the bed and closing her eyes.
"How are you feeling?" the blonde asked, folding a page over in the book she'd been reading and putting it aside.
"Headache."
A rustling sound, followed by the crinkle of a packet. "Here," Emma said quietly. "Take these."
Obligingly, Regina accepted the two pills and knocked them back with a swig of water from a glass Emma handed her from the bedside table. "Thank you," she said as she lay her head back against the pillow. "What time is it?"
"A little after four in the afternoon," Emma replied. "I was almost starting to worry. Do you, um, do you remember what we were talking about before you passed out?"
"Yeah, I remember." She didn't think she'd ever forget the look on Emma's face when she'd opened the bedroom door. She doubted Emma would ever forget what she saw in that moment either. Whatever happened next, whatever the future entailed, their dynamic was forever altered. Emma no longer saw Regina as a woman whom she helped escape an abusive and exploitative situation. Now, in Emma's eyes, Regina was a drug addict.
The bed dipped beside her and Regina's eyes snapped open. "It's ok," Emma soothed at once as panicked brown eyes locked onto her as she sat down on the edge of the bed. "I just, if you're comfortable, wanted to do a few simple health checks. You hit your head on the floor when you fainted. It's carpet, so I'm not too worried and you did come to quickly and were able to get yourself into bed and then fell back to sleep, but still. Do you mind?"
Regina shook her head in silent acceptance as she watched Emma slide into nurse mode. It must be strange, she thought, to have a job where you were required to care for dozens of people every day. How would you stop doing that? How would you separate yourself from your work? Clearly, Regina mused as Emma pressed two fingers gently to her wrist and took her pulse, it was not always possible.
"Aside from the headache, how are you feeling?" Emma asked as she finished her mini check up.
Taking stock of herself for a moment, Regina decided to give the only answer she knew she really could give. "I'm ok."
It wasn't convincing, and she saw Emma's concerned gaze travel across her features. "Are you ok enough to talk?"
"We are talking," Regina pointed out.
Emma grinned. Maybe she took the quip as a sign that Regina was feeling a little better. "So, while you were sleeping, I did a few things. First, I ordered some stuff online for you. Clothes, underwear, basic toiletries, daily things, you know. But I also made you an appointment at the hospital with a colleague of mine who works with addicts. He can see you tomorrow morning, so you can come into work with me. There's usually a whole process with GPs and keyworkers but, well, I can skip you over that stuff for now."
"But, I'm not an addict, Emma," she said, pushing herself back into a sitting position.
"Regina, I saw you about to take heroin," Emma reminded her.
"Yes and I'm not denying that but I'm not addicted. It's just, something I do. Something I did, I guess. It made me feel better when life was pretty shit, ok? But I get that you don't want it in the house and I won't do it again, ok?"
"No, you won't, because I've flushed everything."
At those words, her heart immediately began to pound in her chest, her mind whirring to process what that meant. On the side of the bed, Emma looked almost pleased with herself. "You what?" Regina asked, voice low and laced with venom.
"I flushed your stash, Regina. You're right, I don't want it in the house."
"What the fuck, Emma!" Regina yelled, scrambling out of bed and then stopping short, unsure what her plan was. It wasn't like she could go anywhere. She spun around. "You just threw away over a hundred pound's worth. And it wasn't even yours to throw away."
"My house, my rules," Emma shot back, standing up herself now. "Regina, I'm not going to apologise for throwing away a harmful substance which, may I remind you, you literally just said that you're not addicted to, which is a statement directly contradicting this reaction. If you weren't addicted, you wouldn't care about whether or not there was any dope in the house."
"It's not about being addicted," Regina screamed. "That was mine, Emma. My stuff. I bought it with my own fucking money that I earned and you had no right to go into my bag and take it. God, don't you respect my privacy at all?"
"Of course I do."
Regina scoffed, throwing her hands up in the air. "Yeah? Cos I'm pretty sure if you did have any respect for me, we wouldn't be having this conversation. You're supposed to knock before you walk into someone's room and you're meant to ask before rooting through someone's handbag."
"And you're meant to not shoot up when you're a guest in someone's house," Emma lashed out. "I'm not apologising for this, Regina. I'm not going to let you fool me into thinking you don't have a problem. It's nothing to be ashamed of. Addiction is really serious, and I can tell that this is because of Killian. I get it. I get why you did it and god knows I understand why you needed something to take the edge off. But that part of your life over now and you don't need it any more."
"I do!" Regina exclaimed. Her eyes widened as she realised what she'd said. "I do," she repeated, quieter this time. "I do." The two words kept coming, over and over as if the brunette was chanting a mantra to herself. She stumbled forwards to the bed and collapsed onto it. Emma hurried around and helped her slide back beneath the duvet, her small body trembling with sobs as the emotion of the day overtook her.
Emma's fingers trailed along the edge of her hairline, brushing strays away from her face as she lay her head on the pillow and let her tears sink into the soft fabric. "It's ok," Emma soothed. "Let it out. It's ok, I'm here. I've got you."
"I'm sorry," Regina choked, words catching on her ragged breath as the tears continued to fall.
"No need to apologise," Emma reassured, fingers still stroking gently along the edge of Regina's face.
"I want to stay here," Regina whispered.
"And you can," Emma replied. "You don't have to go anywhere."
"Really?"
Emma rearranged herself on the bed and lay down slowly, her body on top of the duvet while Regina's was curled into the foetal position beneath it. "Really," she said, the words a puff of warm air against Regina's cheek as she turned towards the smaller woman.
They fell silent, the only sound in the room Regina's quiet, persistent crying. But even that faded over the next ten minutes. Emma waited patiently, assuming the brunette was slipping back to sleep until words she barely heard reached her ears.
"Pardon?" she asked, rolling onto her side to get a little closer to Regina.
"Can you hold me?" Regina whispered. "I don't think I can be alone right now."
"Of course," Emma murmured, allowing her left arm to drift over the lump in the duvet that she knew to be Regina's body. On the pillow, Emma's head moved so that her nose was tickled by a tendril of dark brown hair. Her knees bent slightly, slotting into the triangle left by Regina as their bodies closed in, separated by a duvet as Emma took on the role of the big spoon. "Is this ok," the blonde breathed, her hand resting softly on the far side of the woman's body.
"Yes," Regina replied, wriggling her body backwards slightly until she could feel the pressure of Emma's through the soft barrier between them. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. Whatever you need, Regina, just ask. I'll do it. I … I don't know why but I think I'd do anything for you."
The words hung in the air, echoing in both their minds, the women taking the time to try to understand what they might mean. But before Regina could fully comprehend, she found herself slipping into sleep once more.
A/N: Well, Regina's at least starting to admit she has a problem - progress, right?