A/N: so my week started at 8:10 on a Monday morning with me spilling water into my laptop. My laptop, incidentally is my computer on which I write for you guys every weekend in cafes, not my work computer which is full of excel documents and boring things. Luckily the cloud had saved this chapter which was 90% complete along with 40,000 words of the novel I'm working on so life is ok. My laptop is in a rice coffin and I'm going to try and turn it on shortly … wish me luck! Oh, and have a chapter.

Regina sat in silence on the hospital bed, staring unseeingly ahead of her as a doctor examined the cut on her lip. Her father was holding one hand and her mother, the other. Sidney had left the room once the doctor had arrived to make some calls and give the small family a little privacy.

"We'll need to suture this," the doctor said, straightening up. "I'll get our best plastic surgeon down here to do it. That way the scarring will be minimal but I'm afraid it's too deep and too long to disappear completely."

"She'll have a scar?" Cora asked, gazing at the previously perfect face of her only daughter.

"I'm sorry but yes. Perhaps if we'd been able to suture it earlier but it's been several hours now and the wound is too wide," the doctor nodded solemnly.

"My poor baby," Henry murmured.

Regina said nothing. She didn't care any more. Movement carried on around her as the doctor completed the rest of his checks. Not long after he left, declaring that Regina was unharmed apart from her lip, the plastic surgeon came down to stitch her wound. It was a task usually performed by nurses or doctors in the ER but for Regina Mills, the best of the best was called in.

Distantly, she could hear her parents talking as the surgeon set to work. She numbed the area thoroughly before beginning her sutures. Although Regina felt no pain, she could feel the sensation of the skin tugging together. After ten minutes, the woman had finished the task. Speaking quietly to her parents for a moment, the plastic surgeon wished Regina good luck before ducking out of her private room.

Another fifteen minutes and Regina was being guided out of the hospital and into her parents' chauffeur driven car. She was in a sort of daze; paying little attention to what was around her. Mind racing but thoughts barely forming. The journey home was silent. Or rather, Regina didn't hear the questions asked of her. Eventually her parents gave up and rode the rest of the journey mute, just like their daughter.

It wasn't until her father tapped her on the shoulder that Regina realised they were in their garage. She climbed out of the door her mother was holding open for her and walked, stupefied, into the house. Without a word, she ascended the sweeping staircase and headed for her bedroom. The door snapped shut. Henry and Cora, stood at the bottom of the steps, exchanged worried glances.

Emma was silent as she walked into the police station. There was no sign of Lily and Peter who had been put into different vehicles at the airfield. She stood, mute, as an officer performed a complete pat down. The list of items on her inventory was pitiful. Two bobby pins which had been in her jeans pocket, a cheap, tarnished pendant in the shape of a swan and a thin piece of leather which she had worn wrapped around her wrist for the past year.

Once that humiliating process was complete, she was shepherded into a small office to complete her booking. Her handcuffs were secured to the table in the middle of the room and she sat, waiting until a large police officer waddled inside with a laptop tucked under one arm.

"Right," she said as she slumped into the chair on the far side of the table which creaked as the woman's weight was placed on four spindly legs. "Let's get started, shall we?"

Emma didn't answer. Surely it was a rhetorical question.

"Name?"

"Emma Swan."

"Date of birth?"

"October 23rd, 2001."

"Address?"

"Don't have one," Emma replied.

The police officer looked over the top of her glasses. "Where do you live?"

"Nowhere."

"Where do you sleep?"

"Wherever I can find a space for the night," Emma shrugged. "Central Park, usually."

"Last known address then."

"I dunno. I can't remember. It was a group home for foster kids in Tallahassee. I wasn't there long enough to learn the address."

"You were in the foster system?"

Emma nodded.

"Then we'll have a state record," the police officer said, more to herself than to Emma. As the woman started tapping on the keypad, Emma continued to stare at her knees, trying to sort through the emotions swirling through her head.

She knew she should be focusing on herself. Her future, her fate. She was under arrest. Charged with serious felonies. She had no future. At least, not a future which involved freedom. That's what her mind should have been thinking about. But deep brown eyes, sparkling with tears and feelings and tenderness swam to the forefront, eclipsing anything else. Regina. Where was she? Was she ok? Was she traumatised? Of course she was, Emma scoffed to herself. The police officer glanced at her from across the table. The scoff had been audible.

Never again would she see Regina, Emma was sure. Except perhaps at a trial. The thought that the next and only other time she would ever see the beautiful brunette was testifying against her in a criminal proceedings sent a stab of sadness through her heart. It wasn't as if she didn't think she deserved it. She did. She was guilty. She had committed armed robbery. She had, at Neal's instructions, kidnapped Regina and held many others hostage. She may not have been the one who pulled the trigger whose bullet had killed an innocent man but Lily was her friend. She had brought her onto the team. It was her fault. It was all her fault.

"Wait here," the police officer said, as if Emma had a choice. "I've got to make a call to Florida for your records."

The woman stood up, stretched and wandered out of the room to the other side of the bullpen which Emma could see through the large window. Resigned to waiting longer, she continued to gaze at her grubby, scuffed knees, her entire body aching with regret and loss.

"I should go up," Henry said, fingers tapping on the dining room table.

"Are you sure?" Cora asked, sipping her own strong coffee which one of their household staff had made. "Don't you think she needs space?"

"Maybe but I need to see her. I need to know our princess is ok. She hasn't said anything Cora. And you saw what happened with that … that girl at the airfield. What was that? Stockholm Syndrome?"

"I don't think you can get Stockholm Syndrome after two hours," Cora replied.

"Then what was it?" Henry said. "I mean, the way she hugged her. That girl is a criminal. She's the one who held Regina hostage and she was hugging her? I don't understand. I need to know what happened."

Getting to his feet before his wife could say another word, Henry poured a cup of tea and slid several cookies onto a plate to take to his daughter. Cora didn't follow as he left the room. Her husband and daughter had always shared a special bond. She loved both of them even more for it, although sometimes she couldn't help but feel a little left out. In that moment, however, she knew Regina needed her father, not her.

Outside Regina's door, Henry tapped lightly on the mahogany wood. "Princess, it's Daddy. Can I come it?"

There was no answer. He knocked again. After the third time was greeted with silence, Henry turned the door handle, entering his daughter's bedroom without permission for the first time in years. In that moment, making sure Regina was ok trumped her privacy.

The room was dark. Curtains drawn. Lights all off. The glow from the hallway illuminated the lump beneath the covers which was his little girl. He made his way inside, placing the tray with the tea and cookies on the side table before sitting down on the edge of the mattress. Regina didn't move.

"Regina?" he said softly, hand coming to rest on his daughter's hip. "I've brought you some tea and those chocolate cookies you like."

"I'm not hungry," Regina replied, words muffled by the downy pillow.

Henry sighed and adjusted himself further onto the bed. "Baby, you've not eaten anything for hours. Come on, just have some tea, at least."

Unable to disobey or disappoint her father, Regina heaved herself up and flopped back against the headboard. In the darkness of the room, her sutures were barely visible. Henry forced a smile and handed over the cup of steaming liquid. Regina took it with a murmur of thanks and blew across its surface several times before taking a sip.

"Regina, are you ok?" Henry asked.

"No, Daddy," Regina said, passing the cup back to him.

Of course she wasn't ok, Henry thought to himself. His daughter had been kidnapped and held at gunpoint for hours. What a stupid question.

"Can I get you anything?"

Regina shook her head and slipped back down, burrowing under the duvet once more. "I'm tired. I just want to sleep."

"Ok, Princess," Henry whispered. "I'll leave the tea and cookies here in case you change your mind. I'll be up in a while to check on you. If you want anything, just call down, ok?"

Regina said nothing as her father stood from the bed. There was a moment's hesitation and then the older man leaned over a pressed a kiss to his daughter's temple. "I love you," he murmured before turning and leaving the room. Out in the hallway, he leaned against the wall and allowed the tears he had been holding back to cascade down his cheeks.

The holding cell was loud. It was a Friday night and already drunkards were beginning to fill up the limited spaces. Emma pressed herself against the far wall, knees tucked up to her chin and feet resting on the wooden bench. She had glimpsed Peter an hour earlier, walking down the corridor to another holding cell. She still hadn't seen Lily.

When she had asked, the police officer hadn't told her what they were waiting for. She had been processed but not yet charged. Not officially. Although her rights had been read to her at the airfield, she knew there needed to be something more than that before she could be arraigned.

"Swan."

She looked up at the shout of her name and saw yet another police officer beckoning at her from the doorway to the cell. She stood and made her way over to the locked bars.

"Hold out your hands."

Emma stuffed her wrists through the bars and allowed the officer to put the cuffs back on her. Once they were secure, the door to the holding cell was opened and she was led out. Down the corridor, she kept her gaze on the floor as she was guided towards an interrogation room. Inside was a table and chair, much like the room she had been booked in. The mirror on one wall, however, she knew was two-way glass.

She was directed to sit in the chair, at which point the handcuffs were removed. The officer left without another word. Emma looked around. There was nothing else in the room. She glanced at the mirror and then averted her gaze. She didn't want to look at herself in that moment. A sense of shame and regret and remorse had filled her at the sight of her own face, framed with dirty blonde hair. She also didn't want to be unknowingly staring at the police officers who were about to interrogate her.

It wasn't long before the door opened again and yet another police officer appeared, this time a plain clothed detective.

"Good evening, Miss Swan," he said, glancing down at the notes he was carrying. "My name is Detective Parker. How are you doing?"

"I've been better," Emma replied, eyeing the man with suspicion.

"I can imagine," Parker said with a kind smile as he sat down. "Have you been advised of your rights?"

"Yeah," Emma nodded. "Um, can I get a lawyer?"

From everything she had ever watched on television, this seemed to be a smart move.

"Of course," Parker nodded. "But we'll have to wait a while before one arrives. Are you sure you don't want to talk to me now?"

"No," Emma said. "I think I should wait for a lawyer. I'm going to need one anyway, right?"

Detective Parker paused and then closed Emma's file. "Fine. We'll call an attorney for you. I presume you won't be hiring one yourself?"

"No," Emma replied. "I don't think my budget quite stretches to that."

Parker nodded and got to his feet. "Ok. Wait here and we'll see who's available. You may have to wait until morning though."

"Overnight? In that cell?"

"Yes," Parker replied. "Is that a problem?"

Emma narrowed her eyes. She knew the man was trying to get her to waive her right to a lawyer. "No, not a problem. I'd like a lawyer please."

"Fine," Parker said. "I'll be back in a while once we've made some calls."

He strode from the room leaving Emma alone for the first time in hours. A wave of exhaustion hit her and she leaned forwards, crossing her arms on the table as a makeshift pillow and closed her eyes. A tear slipped, unbidden, from beneath her lashes.

"Henry?"

The man looked up from where he was sat on the floor outside his daughter's bedroom at the concerned tone and wiped his face on the back of his hands. "Hey, honey," he said, forcing a smile for his wife. "Sorry, I … I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologise, my love," Cora said, crouching down beside her husband. "How is she?"

"I don't know," Henry admitted. "She didn't say much."

Cora reached out and cupped her husband's cheek, feeling the stubble from the day's growth beneath her palm. "Give her time," she reassured him. "Zelena is on the phone. She's called three times since you came up here and I said I'd come to see if Regina will talk to her."

"You can ask," Henry shrugged, "but I don't think she wants to talk to anyone right now."

Nodding understandingly, Cora leaned forwards and placed a chaste kiss to Henry's lips before standing up and knocking on her daughter's door. Again, there was no answer but Henry waved his hand, encouraging the girl's mother to enter.

"Regina, sweetheart, Zelena is on the phone for you. Would you like to talk to her?" Cora asked in the dark room.

"No," came the croaked response.

"Regina, she's worried about you. She was with us outside the bank, you know. She was sent home when we came to the airfield but she wanted to come. She's really worried and I know she would like to speak to you and know you are really ok."

There was a pause, a huff and a "fine."

Cora stepped further into the room and crossed to her daughter's large bed. Regina rolled over to meet her and stretched out her slender arm to take the phone.

"Where's your cell?" Cora asked as she handed her own over.

"Got broken," Regina replied.

"Both of them?"

"Yeah," Regina said dully before placing her mother's cell to her ear. "Hey Zee."

The squeal from the other teenager reached Cora's ears and she couldn't help but smile faintly as she turned around and walked from the room, giving her daughter some privacy to speak to her best friend.

"She's talking to Zelena?" Henry asked, struggling to his feet as Cora re-emerged.

"I guess," Cora shrugged. "I suspect Zelena is going to do most of the talking. Her cell was broken; we should get her a new one."

"Yes," Henry nodded, pleased to have something to do which would help his daughter in some small way. "Good idea. I'll get Fitzgerald to go out and get one for her now."

With that, Henry turned and hurried off down the corridor. Cora hesitated a moment longer outside her daughter's room and then followed, realising she felt hungry at last. It was well past ten in the evening by then but the whole family had skipped dinner. Heading to the kitchen, Cora decided to have her staff make a spread for her, Henry and Regina, in case the teenager found her appetite again.

Laying in her bed, Regina stared up at the ceiling as her friend jabbered away. The questions Zelena asked never received a response and, eventually, Zelena gave up, promising to come over the following morning to see her best friend.

Once the call was over, Regina tossed the cell towards the foot of the bed and turned over, curling up into a tight ball and sobbing once more into her pillow.

A/N: I promise I will get our two ladies back together relatively soon!