Chapter 8 – The one with the cliff.
Kavalan dies.
It's what Emma had asked for, but when she gets the script for the season finale, her heart still skips a beat at the reveal. The cast had gathered at Belle's hotel suite that weekend to do a cold-read of the script together and the silence that follows everyone's pages turning is almost deafening.
"Oh, shit," Ruby says, her eyes wide in disbelief as she looks up at Belle. "Belle, what the fuck?"
"You killed Kavy off?" Mary Margaret says in dismay, as if she didn't know Emma had already planned to leave the show after season one. "You couldn't just... have her leave on a quest and never come back or something?"
"This is really sad," David says, blue eyes reading ahead as he takes in Kavalan's untimely demise, and Belle looks like she's fighting back a smile as she holds up her hands.
"Untwist all your panties! Her death is implied, but it's left open. Y'know, in case we ever bring Kavalan back..."
All eyes swivel to Emma, who balks at the sudden attention.
"Nope. Kavalan dies. Let's just continue the reading, okay?"
Sighing, Regina straightens out her copy of the script and clears her throat, continuing from where they left off. Queen Reina and Kavalan are running along a cliffside in a raging storm, having just escaped their pursuers, and Reina pulls them to a stop to demand answers.
"What did you say back there?" Regina snaps, angry and frustrated, her voice rough and breathy to match the desperate running that her character has just gone through. "Tell me again!"
"There's no time," Emma growls back, impatient. Only moments before in a previous scene, when things had looked grim and they thought they were going to be caught and killed, Kavalan had leaned in next to Queen Reina's ear and whispered something to her, dialogue that the audiences would not hear. "We have to keep going. You will be safe at the castle."
Regina, ever in character, reaches across the table to grab Emma's wrist and gives her a rough tug. "Tell me!"
"Your Majesty, I—"
Emma stops, mouth snapping shut. She's not enough of a professional actor to actually shout out her death scene at a script reading. As is, everyone reads the moment the rocks crumble beneath her feet and Kavalan falls, scrabbling desperately at the edge, reaching for Reina's hand as the Queen screams her name, and then she's disappearing into the raging river below, swept away below the frothing waters and never to be seen again.
Even Regina is silent next to her, dark eyes on the page.
"Savage," Neal says from the corner armchair where he sits watching them, and the cast bursts out in awkward laughter, moving on with the script and avoiding the topic of Kavalan's death again until the day of filming arrives.
It's a rainy day when they film, which is great for the screen but absolute shite for everything else. They're filming far out from civilization, so without any buildings in sight, their greenroom is an enclosed tent by the treeline, warmed by a single heater blowing in through the tent flap. The cast are all bundled up in puffy coats, except Emma who isn't nearly as bothered by the cold and jokingly says that Regina looks like a wrapped up burrito.
"You make a lot of jokes for a dead woman," Regina grumbles, grumpy and unusually curt today. Emma just grins.
"I'm not dead yet, Mills."
Kavalan's death scene is the biggest stunt they've ever performed in the show so far—which is saying something, since they've had multiple fight scenes already. Emma insisted on doing her own stunts so she'd spent the past few weeks training when she's not filming, and she's equal parts excited and nervous when they finally strap her into her harness and suspend her over the edge of the 'cliff.' It's been padded with fake rocks so that it's soft when she 'slams' into it, and there's a net suspended over the waters below to catch her should anything go wrong, but their stunt team is confident and she's in awe of how epic everything looks.
"Why couldn't we just recreate this all in the studio?" Neal asks, teeth chattering as he shuffles next to Belle, his brow creased with concern. Despite all their precautions, filming a big stunt on a cliff over a running stream is still a massive safety concern. Belle gets what Belle wants, however, especially when she's got Gold wrapped around her pinky finger.
"Because this looks real. This is intense." Belle waves her arms, gesturing at the forest around them, at the rustling leaves and the rain and the grey, darkening sky. "We're a TV show, Neal. Our special effects budget is limited. We do this in a studio and people will know it was greenscreened. I refuse to make my show look campy."
"This is still the most dangerous thing we've ever done," Neal sighs, lifting his walkie up. "Alright, everybody focus. Here we go. Pictures up, please. Roll sound."
And, despite Neal's worries, everything goes perfectly. The wire drops Emma a short distance, she cries out as if the ground has collapsed beneath her, and she lands chest-first against the edge and scrambles at the fake rock ledge, staring up at Regina with wild eyes and choked words.
"Kavalan!" Regina screams, throwing herself forward towards the edge and landing on her stomach with her hands stretched out, and the wire drops Emma again right as she tries to grab hold of Regina's offered hand, this time letting her fall far enough that Emma actually screams in genuine alarm before the harness cushions her descent and leaves her hanging safely above the net over the water. Despite having anticipated the drop, her heart is still racing as if she'd just sped down the world's tallest rollercoaster, and her face is flush with startled laughter when she's reeled back up onto land, legs shaky when her feet touch solid ground.
"Holy shit," Emma wheezes, jittery with adrenaline. She's ready to go again as to not lose her stride, but Regina has burst into very real tears as soon as Neal called "cut" over the radio, and her excitement turns to instant concern as she hurries to the brunette's side, heedless of the stunts person trailing after her to make sure she doesn't tangle her wires.
"You should've used a stunt double, you asshole," Regina says, banging a fist against Emma's chest when she's in reach.
"I'm fine, Regina," Emma reminds her, grasping her by the shoulders as Regina sinks into her for a hug—their very first hug, in fact, which should feel weird and awkward after half a year of filming together, but in this moment they fit together easily like two puzzle pieces. "It's totally safe, see?"
"You fell off a fucking cliff right in front of me," Regina half-shouts, squeezing her like her life depends on it, and Emma's aware of the whole crew watching them, stunned at the emotional concern (and the foul language) coming from their leading actress.
Eventually, Regina stiffly composes herself as if she hadn't just cried over Emma's fake demise over the edge of a cliff, and they retake the scene a few times more, just enough to get their coverage shots and then unhooking Emma from her harness with a collective sigh of relief. PAs scurry about, closing up the gap of orange safety cones lining the edge of the cliff, and the whole crew is herded back to a safe distance as they start loading out gear and preparing for a move to the next location.
"You alright?" Emma asks once she and Regina are back inside the greenroom tent, bundled in their coats and collecting their personal items. Regina stuffs her phone into her pocket and pulls her hood up over her hair, preparing to head back out.
"Fine," she says, stiff, and Emma makes sure to intercept her before she can leave.
"Hey, I'm right here. I'm alright. It was totally safe."
Regina's eyes are still dark and unsettled, and she struggles for only a moment before giving in when Emma pulls her in for another hug. The brunette's embrace is like a drug—just one hit and she wants more.
"I'm still mad at you," she grumbles into Emma's shoulder, voice muffled. The blonde laughs, squeezing her tighter.
"Okay."
"You're fired!"
The entire cast—sans Regina, who looks thoroughly unimpressed—shouts it at her as soon as she walks into the studio on Monday morning. Emma is already show wrapped, but Regina has a few scenes left to shoot with the others, and they have three official days left before the season is done.
"Take your shit and get out," Neal jokes, slinging an arm around Emma's shoulders. Emma punches him lightly in the gut, only to be drowned beneath more hugs from her overbearing castmates.
"Jeez, I'm still gonna be here with Regina for the rest of the episode," she laughs, swatting them away. Warmth burns in her chest at the way they still fawn over her like a beloved coworker and she stamps down the little voice at the back of her mind that whispers, 'this won't last.'
"I can't believe we won't be sharing the screen together anymore," Mary Margaret laments, clinging to Emma with a whine in her voice, and Regina makes a disgusted little sound and heads to the greenroom. Emma eventually manages to shake them all off, searching out Regina only to stay back to give her privacy when she notices Regina talking to Belle off to one side. Both women glance at her from afar, and Emma gets the feeling they're plotting.
"What did Belle want?" Emma asks once Regina is back in her chair. The brunette shrugs, flipping through her script.
"Nothing," she says dismissively, and Emma sighs and says no more.
They attend the wrap party at the end of the season, the company having rented out an entire bar and lounge solely for cast and crew. There's security all around the building and at the front door, checking every guest before letting them in, so Emma allows herself to relax and have a couple drinks, mainly from Ruby's insistence and Regina's coy suggestions.
"No plus one?" Regina asks eventually, the two of them leaning against the bar as they wait for their drinks. Emma meets her eyes, her brows furrowed, then gives an awkward little smile.
"Nope."
And Regina just stares at her for a moment like she doesn't believe her, but Emma's smiling back at her like she's the only one she sees in the room, and for now, she lets it go.
She indulges, drinking more than she usually does in public, enough that she's warmed up to everyone again and leans into Emma's personal space a little too much, monopolizing the blonde's attention while occasionally throwing a snide remark or scowl in Mary Margaret's direction (though it's not nearly as sharp as usual, more like an irritated sibling.)
Music beats through the building non stop, but the familiar drum beat of Kingdom Come starts to thrum out over the speakers like a growing battle cry and the entire cast and crew erupt in cheers, proud of the work they've done over the past six months and celebrating along to their show's new opening theme song.
"Dance with me," Regina says right into Emma's ear, and Emma is buzzed enough to think it's a good idea.
"To the theme song?" she asks, laughing as she lets Regina pull her out into the middle of the floor. A few people are dancing, but mostly they're standing around chatting and drinking. Regina slings her arms over Emma's shoulders and sways with her, smirking.
"What better way to celebrate our show?"
"Our show, huh?"
"Forget Blanchard; you and I are the stars. Reina and Kavalan are the stars."
"That's a bit arrogant," Emma teases.
"It's not arrogant if it's true. Just you wait." Regina leans in, lips brushing Emma's cheek, breath hot on her ear. "You'll regret leaving the show."
"Sure," Emma agrees placatingly, amused. "It's not like my character fell off a cliff or anything."
Regina moves back to grin at her, her knee-jerk response of anger at that reminder strangely absent this time. Instead, there's a knowing glint in her eye, and Emma is afraid to look too deeply into them to discern their meaning.
"Dance with me," Regina says again, moving Emma's hands onto her hips, and the blonde is helpless to resist, drawn into Regina's husky laughter as they sway together long into the night.
Regina flies home, and Emma returns to Boston. This time, perhaps for good, or at least that's what she believes when she dumps her bag and suitcase next to her couch, staring around her modern but empty apartment. It feels like she's been away for much longer than seven months. The place feels cold and unlived in. It doesn't help that Henry's room is still half empty, most of his favourite things packed and gone when he'd left.
Sighing, she slowly sinks down onto the couch, unwinding the red scarf from her neck and staring down at it as she holds it in her hands.
A precious gift from a celebrity she once knew. One she called a friend, once upon a time.
Feeling the sting of longing in her eyes, she shakes her head with a groan and whips out her phone, calling Jecob on speed dial. She needs to get straight back into work and not give herself time to think and miss what she's left behind in Vancouver.
"Yeah," Jecob grunts in reply.
"Jecob, I need a gig."
There's a pause and a shuffling sound, like Jecob is checking his phone to confirm who he's talking to, and then—
"Uh, I got nothin' for you right now."
"Seriously? You almost always have a job available."
"Nope, nothin'," he says again, and he's always been a shit liar. Emma scowls.
"What the hell, Jecob?"
"Gotta go." There's a click and then he's gone. Jecob has hung up on her for the first time ever. Emma nearly chucks her phone across the room.
"Ugh! You son of a—"
The phone rings in her hand and she answers it immediately without even checking the caller ID.
"Jecob, I swear to god, you better have a job for me—"
"Well, I don't know about him, but I have a job for you," a familiar voice purrs. Emma freezes in place, her blood running hot and cold at the same time.
"... Regina?"
"Hello, Emma." The smile in her voice is evident, warm and bright. "Miss me?"
Emma splutters. "I— you— you're—?"
"Mmm. I'm going on a convention tour starting this weekend and your services are needed, Miss Swan."
Emma gapes. Not just at the title but at the fact that Regina is actually, directly calling her cellphone instead of going through Jecob's agency like usual. They all left Vancouver only four days ago (Emma had detoured to New York for an impromptu pizza vacation before heading home) and she'd already assumed she'd never see any of them ever again.
"Emma?"
"Uh, y-yeah?"
You're available, aren't you?"
"Available?" Emma splutters again, mind blanking.
"For the job. I need you for three weeks."
"O-oh. Yeah, sure!" She's not sure if she's disappointed or not. It's Regina Mills. An actress. A celebrity. Television's up-and-coming TV star. She craves being near her again, the way she's never craved being around anyone, especially in her line of work—but Regina is simply offering her a job. "Yeah... I can work."
"You're sure I'm not taking you away from... anything?"
"Huh? No, not at all."
She can almost see the grin on Regina's face when the woman's smile is evident through her voice. "Wonderful. I'll email you the details shortly. We start in New Jersey."
