AN: Hey guys, wow your love for this story just keeps on growing, and my appreciation and love for you grows with it :-) One quick thing just to quell the several concerns that were voiced after last chapter, this is a Swan Queen tale and in no story of mine will Emma ever pick Hook over her amazingly, gorgeous soul mate, Regina Mills. Have no fear, the happy ending we all want is on its way :-) This chapter is shorter than most previous ones because otherwise chapter 22 would have been HUGE. It also meant you got an update a little sooner too ;-) It's Zelena/Regina central, and is the set up chapter to lead us towards the end of the story – there's three chapters to go - :-( Anyway, enjoy, and let me know what you think ;-)

It's been a week. One week since I fled Snow's loft in a fit of rage and disappointment. One week since I spoke to Henry, and longer since I last saw, Emma. I haven't left the mansion in days.

Physically, I'm fine. I slept for forty-eight hours straight and have been fighting fit ever since. Despite the hurt that I've been feeling since I learnt that Emma returned to Hook, my heart is stronger than ever. There have been no more earthquakes, no more agonising attacks. Either my heart was healed when I was saved from Thanatos, or embracing my dark side has allowed me to close myself off to such simple human frailties.

I also haven't shared anymore dreams. Though I'm certain that's down to my determination not to speak to the blonde in any sort of capacity. She's called me several times since last week, has left a string of unheard messages on my voicemail - she even paid me a visit. That was an awkward experience to say the least, having to listen to the saviour of Storybrooke beg for an audience out on my doorstep. Awkward for her anyway, I found the whole debacle highly amusing.

Don't get me wrong, I'm no longer as twistedly cruel as the Queen was, but I'm also not as pathetically self-pitying as Regina either. I'm somewhere in between, the perfect balance of good and evil, whole at last with no lingering sense of shame. Granted, I still regret many of the decisions I made in the Enchanted Forest, but I'm no longer prepared to keep apologising for them when I've repeatedly risked my life for redemption.

The asinine fairy-tale folk of Storybrooke need me as much as I need them, and it's about time they abandoned their grudges and gave me that long overdue second chance. Yes, I did them wrong, but they were always too quick to judge where I was concerned. Forgiveness goes both ways, and if they're willing to accept that I've changed, then I'm willing to accept them as equals. It's time to put the past to bed.

Emma Swan on the other hand, is something else completely. I don't wish her any ill will and I'm certainly not planning to enact any sort of revenge, but I'm also not ready to allow her past my carefully constructed defensive walls. My emotions are fragile and my feelings erratic. If I allow her near me before I've found a way to deal with the pain of rejection, then I can't promise that I'll be able to control the outcome. Embracing both the light and dark is one thing, knowing which one will react is another. One wrong word from the blonde could see me break down in floods of humiliating tears. Either that or I could vengefully remove her lover's manhood.

No, until I fully learn how to balance the two contradictory sides of my personality, Emma is better off out of my reach.

I sense my sister's magic moments before she materialises in my study, and roll my eyes at her rudeness for breaching the blood spell barrier I've had protecting my home for the last several days.

"Oh!" She states in surprise, her eyes drifting disapprovingly over my less than professional appearance, "I didn't realise that the Mayor was championing dress down Friday's."

I glance down to my unusual choice of outfit – barefoot, in a tank top and track pants – well aware that most of this town's residents would doubt that I own such casual attire, much less ever expect to see me in it.

"Polite people knock!" I offer in response, purposefully ignoring her sarcastic comment and downright refusing to explain my appearance when in my own home.

She arches an eyebrow, "Polite people did," She replies, referring to the failed visits of Henry, Snow, Tink and Emma. "I, on the other hand, am the Wicked Witch of the West and your big sister. I don't need to knock."

I take off my reading glasses and pinch the bridge of my nose. While her concern is something unfamiliar and altogether new for me, at the moment it's more of a hindrance than a help. Having a sister is something that's going to take a lot of getting used to, especially when I'm pre-conditioned to carry the weight of my burdens, alone.

I sigh heavily, aware that no amount of stalling is going to make her go away, "What do you want?"

"I'm sorry," She snorts, offended. "I didn't realise that your demand for politeness only mattered when referring to how people should address you! Did you leave your manners in the afterlife? That's hardly the way to respond to someone merely enquiring after your health now, is it?"

She scolds me in a manner eerily reminiscent of our mother. She even stands the same way, with her hands on her hips and her head tilted up in a show of superiority.

"Zelena…." I protest, the tiredness filtering through in my tone.

"Oh very well," She concedes, her expression softening as she quickly realises that I'm not in the mood for games.

She moves over to where I'm curled up on the leather couch, and crouches down in front of me. Holding her hand out palm up, she swipes her other hand across the top of it, and a pint of Cherry Garcia appears before us.

"What's that?" I ask curiously.

She smiles, "Ice cream. Ben and Jerry's to be precise. I read somewhere that it's often eaten during times of emotional stress. Or would you prefer a bar of chocolate instead?"

She takes the lid off to offer me the frozen treat, and I can't help but wonder how many copies of Cosmopolitan she had to read in order to discover that piece of useless information.

I decline the gift with a shake of my hand, and hastily stand in an attempt to put a swift end to this unexpected bonding session. "As you can see I'm perfectly fine," I reply, gesturing to my healthy appearance. "And if you only came here to mock me then I'd advise that you leave before I let my dark side out to play!"

She gives me the once over again, scrutinising every last inch of my appearance from my make-up free face to the very tips of my dark painted toe-nails.

"Clearly your fashion sense wasn't all that you lost," She surmises, referencing my spikey, unwelcoming attitude.

When my frown only deepens she magics away the ice cream and forces me to look at her, smiling affectionately, "For what it's worth, you scared me for a while back there…" She states, her voice losing its sardonic edge.

My eyes meet hers, my anger threatening to take over once more, "And you betrayed me!" I reply, coldly.

"I…what!?"

It may seem like a harsh thing to say considering that she's clearly come here to offer her support, but I can't ignore the fact that she placed Emma's life in danger by telling her about my duel. I'm certain that my darkness wouldn't have half as much reason to surface if I could find one person in my life capable of keeping a secret.

"You told Emma about my fight with, Thanatos" I explain, failing to hide my disappointment. "I told you not too."

She scoffs ludicrously, dismissing the accusation with a wave of her hand, "If I hadn't you'd be dead," She brusquely points out, "a simple thank you will suffice."

Unfortunately, that's a truth I can't deny, and though it irks me to say it, she probably did make the right decision by telling Emma. After all, we did all survive the experience.

I'm far too proud to ever admit that aloud however.

Detecting my hesitancy, Zelena moves to stand beside me at the window. We both stare straight ahead, gazing out into my vast garden as she approaches what is obviously a touchy subject for me.

"Now are you going to stop sulking and tell me why you've decided to cut yourself off from the town," She asks gently, "or am I going to have to use magic to make you tell me?"

I chuckle at her misplaced confidence, "You don't have that sort of power," I argue.

"Don't underestimate me," She replies, giving me a knowing, sideways glance, "You made that mistake once before, remember!"

"Yes," I agree, the memory of our fight on Main Street and the broken ribs I suffered as a result, still fresh in my mind. "And if I remember correctly, it got me thrown through the face of a clock tower."

She smirks and offers me an apologetic half shrug, "What can I say, I'm a perfectionist and you were late!"

A comfortable silence falls between us as I take a moment to appreciate the never ending wit of my family. No matter how dire the situation – how desperate the circumstances – you can always rely on a Mills woman for a clever retort.

Beside me, Zelena exhales, all traces of humour dissipating from her voice, "Emma's worried about you," She says, deadpan. "She doesn't understand why you've stopped talking to her. Why you won't answer the door or reply to her messages…"

I make a disbelieving sound in the back of my throat, "How very touching to know that she cares!" I reply.

"Spoken like a true Evil Queen…." She turns to face me, her expression one of real concern, "Regina, what's going on?" She asks.

I focus my attention on the on the swing at the bottom of the garden and try to centre my emotions. Why am I really angry with the blonde Sheriff? It certainly isn't because she didn't choose me. Yes, that hurts, but I instructed her to make the choice. I wanted her to pick whomever made her happy.

No, the real reason for my anger is much more credible. "She wasn't there," I reply after a beat.

"Who?" Zelena frowns, quick to answer her own question, "Emma?" She shakes her head, "I don't know what you mean. She was in your dream, she watched you die. She told us exactly what happened…"

"She wasn't there when I woke up," I inform.

"So?"

I take a deep breath, unable to comprehend that she can't understand why something so seemingly trivial could be so fundamentally significant. "If you don't know why that's so important to me then there's no point in us having this discussion," I reply.

Her expression softens in a way that suggests she understands perfectly, and I feel a supportive hand come to rest between my shoulder blades.

"She didn't move from your bedside for three days," She informs, gently. "She was like a sentry, guarding your every breath. She didn't sleep, barely ate…"

I grit my teeth against a truth that's just a little too hard to swallow, "But when it actually mattered she was gone," I remind.

"Ah," The exclamation is guilt ridden, and when her eyes meet mine it's with an element of regret. "That was my mistake," She admits reluctantly, "I told her that though you were strong enough to pull through, your magic was still weak. I didn't expect you to wake up for several days. She thought she had a little time."

"A little time to what?" I scoff, still unwilling to accept the selfishness of her actions, "To crawl back into her pirate's bed?"

And there it is, the real reason for my supressed bitterness; jealousy. I look away the second my words are out, well aware that I have no right to judge her so harshly when I fought to give her the choice in the first place…

But still, the green-eyed monster has raised his ugly head to the point that I may well start to look like my sister if I don't get control of my emotions soon. I may have conceded defeat to my rival, but it doesn't make it any easier to accept.

Zelena fully turns to face me, a look of bewilderment on her usually stern expression, "What in all of Oz are you talking about?" She demands.

I realise then that she has no reason to understand my envy. She knows how I feel, but she's unaware of what happened that night in my vault. I swallow thickly, having never coped well with discussions involving my personal life.

"We slept together," I explain, flushing with embarrassment.

She huffs, "Tell me something I don't know!"

I'm shocked to learn of the intimate knowledge she appears to have acquired, and briefly wonder if she's been watching me somehow. The Queen raises her disgruntled head, and this time, I'm more than happy to let her.

"How do you know?"

My sister shrugs, "Emma told me," she replies, unfazed by the anger lacing my voice, "right before she begged me to tell her what was happening to you."

She stops to consider me for a moment and takes a breath, "Regina, what do know about what happened that night?"

"Everything," I reply, with far more confidence than I have any right to have considering what I do know is based on assumption rather than fact. "Thanatos beat me. I died. Emma fought him for my life and won, only to return home to her pirate."

She gives me a look of utter disbelief and shakes her head incredulously, "I've never heard such a fabricated version of events in all my life," she gasps, "and I know Dorothy Gale! Who fed you that load of drivel?"

I clear my throat uneasily, and turn to glance back out the window, "I…"

She raises a hand, detecting the hesitation in my tone and stopping me before I can continue. "Oh don't tell me," She replies. "No one fed you anything because you didn't let anyone talk!"

When her suggestion is met with silence and the guilty reddening of my cheeks, her hands return to her hips.

"Regina Mills, you are as stubborn as a mule," She scolds, "And if you haven't learnt by now that blind ignorance gets you nowhere then I don't suppose you ever will." She prods my shoulder aggressively, "The only thing keeping you from your happy ending is that temper of yours…"

I shrug her off, finding the statement difficult to believe, "…that and a one-handed pirate!" I grumble petulantly.

She sighs, "Do you honestly think that Emma would just go back to him? After everything that happened between the two of you?"

A tiny slither of hope briefly flares to life, the memory of her heartfelt confessions that night in my vault and as I lay dying in her arms. She told me that though she cared for Hook it had always been me…she said that she wanted me…

But I've heard similar declarations of love before, from Daniel and Robin, and neither of those relationships stood the test of time. I died, and she wasn't there to greet me when I woke up because she had gone to see him. It may sound irrational, but I'm not prepared to put my heart on the line for another doomed love affair.

"I don't need to think about what Emma would do," I reply, determined not to let my guard down regardless of the circumstances. "Snow told me that she was with him!"

The redhead gives me an overdramatic eye roll, "Well, sis, she's been with me a lot too over the last few days but I assure you, not once has she declared her undying love for me."

I feel my irritation bristle at her cavalier response, "It's a little different," I reply, frustrated that it even needs to be said.

"Is it now?" Her question is spoken lightly but I can tell from her demeanour that she somehow intends to direct this back to me.

"Do you know what I think?" She continues, pushing forward when I fail to reply, "I think that you're so scared of getting hurt again that your trying to sabotage your relationship with Emma before it even begins."

I open my mouth to offer a scathing response but she cuts me off before I can voice my protest, "That Evil Queen that everyone's so scared of, she's great at protecting you but she does it a little too well," She criticises. "So do us all a favour and tell her to take a step back, and when you do, take a long hard look at that rejuvenated heart of yours because I think you'll find that it's now a whole different organ!"

My hand instinctively reaches up, covering my chest over the steady beat of my heart. I have no idea what such a comment is meant to imply. Does Zelena know that I've embraced every aspect of my personality? Is this her way of disagreeing with my decision? Does she think that I've changed for the worse by accepting my darkness?

I frown in confusion, "What are you talking about?" I ask, at a loss as to how to respond.

It's then that I sense the frustration brewing within her, the realisation that I'm oblivious to her point, "Oh for heaven's sake you really do know nothing…" she gripes, manoeuvring me across the room and forcing me to sit down on the couch once more. "Now, sit down, shut up, and watch what really happened through the eyes of someone that was actually there."

I sense her magic building in the air around us, and before I have time to ask anything further, she closes her eyes, and a dreamcatcher appears.