Author's Note:
Holy crap, the response to the last chapter was freaking phenomenal; thank you so much!

CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Healing

"If you take your eyes off of me for two seconds a bottle of liquor isn't going to magically materialize in my hands, you know."

Regina pursed her lips, a small look of annoyance crossing over her features. "I'm well aware of that, dear. However that doesn't stop me from worrying about you. Are you sure you're—?"

"I'm fine," Emma interrupted, a bit of a snap to her tone. Her leg was bouncing anxiously against the mattress, lightly shaking the laptop she was in front of. She slapped her hand on top of it to keep it from moving and Regina raised an eyebrow. "Seriously, that's like the tenth time you've asked in the past hour. Relax, okay? I'm just… edgy. And if I start to feel sick you'll be the first to know."

"That was hardly the tenth."

Emma rolled her eyes, trying to ignore her steadily growing headache. It had been getting worse and worse over the past hour, and it was soon going to get to the point where she could do nothing but lie in the dark. "It's called an exaggeration, Regina. Look it up." Regina's annoyed look furthered at that, but Emma shut her down before she could say anything more. "Now stop interrupting me, I got work to do."

Regina's gaze flickered to the laptop in front of Emma, looking a little apprehensive. "Are you certain you're going to be able to find him? This world is a very large place and he could have come into it anywhere."

"Yeah, already know how bad the odds are stacked against me, thanks," Emma muttered, her eyes scanning the screen in front of her as she wiped her clammy hands on her jeans. "But right now I'm going with the theory that if I got dumped off in Maine, maybe Baelfire did too. It's a longshot and maybe I just watched too much Angel when I was teenager with this 'portal hot spots' crap, but at least it's a place to start."

Regina watched her for a moment, taking notice of how her hands were beginning to tremble, and pursed her lips into a tight line.

"Don't," Emma said, without even looking over at her.

"What?"

"Don't start. I'm fine."

For now, anyway. Looking for Baelfire at least distracted her enough so that she didn't have to think about needing a drink, but her withdrawal symptoms had only just begun. If truth were told, Emma was actually worried about how bad they could get, but she didn't want to make Regina fuss over her more than she already was, and so she kept her thoughts to herself. She could get through this. It would pass… eventually.

And she needed it to pass, because until then she was practically handcuffed to Regina's side. The woman had brought her to retrieve her car and her baggage, but until Regina was certain she was okay, she wasn't 'allowed' to be left alone; which meant that she could not have her own room in the motel, and that was… suffocating.

"You're shaking."

"And you're distracting. Stop. Go read a book or something."

Regina exhaled a hard breath, Emma's unwillingness to just allow her to worry or care testing her patience. "Emma, this is serious. I had assumed your addiction was merely in your mind, but you're starting to exhibit symptoms of someone who was physically dependent on it. And if that's the case, withdrawing from it could become dangerous. Perhaps I should just bring you to the hospi—"

"No!" Emma exclaimed, the force of her tone nearly startling the woman next to her. "No hospitals. I'll be fine, okay? Seriously."

"You can't possibly know that."

"Regina, can you just—!" Emma started, fingers tensing as she gestured erratically at the brunette, letting her hands to do the talking for her. Frustration was beginning to curl off her like smoke, and if Regina didn't just quit, she was gonna end up going against one pissed off Savior. Taking a breath, Emma looked at her warningly as she held out the flat of her hand. "Look, I get that in a few months I'll probably be thanking you for this, but right now? This really fucking sucks. And you? You're. Not. Helping. I'm trying to distract myself here, and all you're doing is bringing up the one thing I don't wanna think about. Stop."

Regina chewed on the inside of her cheek, obviously not wishing to drop the subject but not wanting to make this any harder than it had to be for the woman opposite her. "Fine," she conceded quietly. "But if you start to exhibit any of the more severe symptoms, I will take you there kicking and screaming if I have to."

"What, like death?" Emma deadpanned, to which Regina shot her a furious look for. That apparently was not something to joke about.

"Fever," she began listing off, ticking off each point with another finger. "Hallucinations. Convulsions."

"Pretty sure it ain't gonna be that bad," Emma dismissed, because in the end, that sounded like something that happened to other people, not to her.

But then again, she had thought alcoholism was too.

[x]

Emma got progressively worse the longer the day wore on.

There weren't many things that frightened Regina, but this was easily one of them. It was completely beyond her control, and as she held back Emma's hair as she pitched over the side of the bed, vomiting nothing but stomach acid into the waste bin, Regina swallowed hard, trying not to outwardly show how frightened this was making her. Emma was already going through enough, and it would only stand to make everything worse.

Emma choked on her bile, spitting the remnants of it into the bin as Regina ran her other hand down the length of her back, trying to sooth her. Emma hadn't eaten all day, claiming she just wasn't hungry, and now Regina could only imagine how badly the acid was burning her esophagus. She should have pushed harder to have her eat something; even bland crackers would have been better than nothing.

"Fuck," Emma groaned, her voice scratchy and weak sounding. "I missed the bin a little."

"It's fine," Regina assured her softly, tracing small patterns on Emma's lower back in an attempt to give her some small semblance of comfort. She had no idea if it was actually helping or not, but it was instinctual nonetheless. "I'll clean it up when you're through."

"No, that's—" But a loud cough cut her off before she wretched again, putting her head into the waste bin. Regina winced as she heard her continue to dry heave, as nothing else was left for her to throw up. The sound of it was sickening.

"It would hardly be the first mess I've cleaned, dear," Regina told her gently, not wanting Emma to have to clean up after herself when she was ill. "I took care of Henry for ten years, after all. He had been sick plenty of times over the course of his childhood."

Emma coughed and then groaned, moving away from the waste basket to lie back down on the bed. She was awfully pale and Regina's lips pursed into a tight line at the sight of her. Slick with sweat, Emma's blonde hair stuck to her skin and Regina pushed it back out of her eyes before running her hand down the contour of her cheek. Emma's eyes fluttered closed as she leaned into the touch, searching for the only sense of comfort that this moment could allot her.

"Feel bad 'bout it," she mumbled. "My fault."

"There will be time for guilt later," Regina reminded her softly. "But for now, just try to get some rest."

Emma nodded and Regina carefully removed herself from the woman's side. As Emma rolled over, Regina got a washcloth out of the bathroom and tended to the mess she had made. After she had finished and washed her hands, she sat back down on the bed beside her, trying to ready herself for a sleepless night, as there was no way she would be able to get any rest with the condition that Emma was in. The blonde moved instinctively, crawling towards her until she could place her head in Regina's lap. The sorceress smiled lightly, beginning to run her fingers through the other woman's hair. It was tangled and unmanageable, yet Regina found she didn't much care.

So much had happened between them, and Regina was unsure if them sleeping together had really changed anything, but in the end, it was still nice to be needed; to be trusted to take care of the woman she loved. And so she did.

"Regina," Emma breathed, the whiny words tickling the skin of Regina's bare thigh. "This sucks."

Regina smirked a little, finding herself amused at how childlike Emma sounded. It was endearing, in a way. It reminded her of Henry. "I would remind you that your actions have consequences, but I believe this situation is doing that for you."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Gee, thanks."

"It'll get better," Regina promised her, although she knew she couldn't do such a thing. Even if Emma got past this, she still had an uphill battle, and she may for the rest of her life. Alcoholism was not an easy addiction to have, as it was legal and easily accessible. Still, she lied, "This is the hard part, remember that. And I'm… I'm proud of you, Emma, for having the strength to do this."

"You have no idea how bad I want to literally soak my entire fucking liver in whiskey right now," Emma groaned, burying her head further into Regina's nightshirt as she sought to block out the rest of the world. "So save your pride till I actually survive this crap."

Regina tightened her fingers in Emma's hair, lightly scratching her nails over her scalp, and exhaled a soft sigh. She said nothing however, as she knew this was incredibly hard on Emma, and it was understandable that she would be bitter about the decision she had made. At the moment, it probably didn't feel like the right one.

They sat in silence for a long time before Emma asked softly, "Distract me?"

"Hm?"

"You know, just… talk, or something," Emma requested, digging her fingers into the fabric of the comforter as she stared at the far wall. "Tell me… I don't know, something happy from your childhood. Cause fuck, the more I think about it, the more I realize how much I don't know anything about your life before Storybrooke; at least, y'know, nothing outside of the stuff that was in Henry's book. And I…" Emma faltered for a moment, realizing her mistake of bringing that topic up once the brunette instinctively stiffened.

"That book is an incredibly biased account of complicated circumstances," Regina quickly defended, stilling her hand in Emma's hair. "You would do well to not use it as a gospel. If you wish to know my side of things, I would prefer it if you asked."

"No, I…" Emma tried, but looked a little overwhelmed with how quickly Regina's entire demeanor changed at just the mere mention of it. She sighed for a moment, pushing the hair back out of her face before burying her head further in Regina's thigh, unable to look at her. "I don't… wanna know that stuff, okay?" she mumbled, "Not yet, and especially not when I'm already fighting the urge to puke. So just… happy things, Regina, yeah? Tell me about your childhood."

Regina took a deep breath, not really finding this topic much better. Still, she spoke, as in the end, she didn't want Emma focused on what she was currently going through. "There weren't many happy moments from my childhood," she told her softly, honestly. "Unless you count the time I spent with my horse, Rocinante. Taking care of him, riding him… it was the only time I ever felt truly content."

"Seriously?" Emma asked, turning her head to look up at her. Her face was so pale that it almost glowed under the soft moonlight that shone through the window. Regina tried like hell not to focus on how she looked though, as it made her stomach feel unsettled. She didn't like seeing her like this; it tore her apart inside.

"I mean, I know your mom was a complete cunt but like… what about your dad?" Emma asked. "Didn't you have any friends? Or like… I don't know, what about your first crush or whatever?" She was pushing, but she clearly wished for Regina to keep speaking, not be shut down like the brunette's answer had originally intended. Emma wanted her distraction. "I mean come on, Regina, it couldn't have all been shit. As someone who had a crap childhood too, I know it still has its moments, no matter how small."

Regina exhaled a long breath, turning her head to look out the far window. This wasn't exactly the easiest of conversations, which was why Regina never felt compelled to have it. Perhaps Emma should have known about these things a long time ago, but it wasn't something Regina ever wished to voice. "My father was a kind man," she began softly, conceding to her wishes. "However, he was unable to stand up to my mother, and so that kindness was wasted when I needed it the most."

Emma stayed silent, waiting for her to continue. Regina took a moment, gathering up her courage to allow herself to become a little more exposed. Despite the fact that she trusted Emma beyond anyone else on this earth, it was still hard to talk about. Her childhood was where her weakness lied.

"I wasn't allowed to have friends," Regina went on after a few second's hesitation. "Mother found them to be a needless distraction. I hardly socialized with anyone my own age, and when I did, Mother believed them or their family's status to generally be unworthy of my attentions and forbade me from seeing them again. The only person I…"

But Regina stopped, unable to speak about the one thing Emma should probably really know about her, yet she feared having her be aware of all the same.

"The only person, what, Regina?" Emma asked tentatively. She knew they had stumbled upon a topic of great unrest for her, as Regina's face was briefly etched with the pain of the past. God, she couldn't do this right now. This wasn't the right time.

Would there ever really be a right time though?

Regina hesitated again, pursing her lips into a tight line. Finally she shook her head before tearing her gaze away from the window. "This isn't a conversation you want to have now," she warned her, trying not to notice the way her voice broke beneath the weight of the words. "It does not have a happy ending, and I don't believe you're ready to know the true extent of it."

"Okay," Emma conceded softly, accepting that. She wet her cracked, dry lips for a moment though before inquiring, "But can I… ask you something?" Regina looked down at her, yet did not say no, so Emma took that as a sign to continue. "This… person. You loved them, didn't you?"

"Yes," Regina admitted quietly, once more unable to look at the woman lying atop her. It felt strange, to say that to the person she was currently in love with. "I loved him very much."

Emma was silent for a moment, and Regina could only imagine that she was turning the information over in her head. She traced light patterns on the back of Regina's leg before plucking up the courage to ask, "Can I know his name?" Before Regina could shut her down though, she quickly continued, "If you tell me yours, I'll tell you mine."

"The name of your first love?" Regina inquired, to which Emma nodded. Finding that to at least be a fair compromise, Regina conceded with, "Alright, but that's the end of the questions about him. One day I promise I will tell you but… but that day is not today."

Emma nodded her consent, and then Regina quietly revealed the name of the man whose death began the tragic path she had found herself on. "Daniel."

Emma smiled softly at her, a way of thank you, before revealing her own. "Neal."

Regina's eyebrows furrowed, recognizing that name. It was on her son's original birth certificate. But surely it couldn't be… "Henry's father?"

"Mmm."

Regina was surprised. "Oh. I had… well, I suppose I had just expected—"

"What? That Henry was conceived in the back of a car by some one night stand?" Emma finished for her, making Regina flush lightly from her tone. With Emma's past, it was hardly an uneducated guess, but still, she felt ashamed for having immediately jumped to the conclusion. "No. Henry was conceived out of love. Or… I don't know, what I thought was love at the time. Turns out I was wrong though. He was the reason I went to prison in the first place; the bastard set me up. It's…" Emma sighed, turning her face away from her as she exhaled a long breath. "Nevermind. I don't really wanna talk about it."

Regina gave her a soft, sympathetic smile before running her fingers through the other woman's hair once more. Apparently she was not the only one who had experienced pain with her first love, and she very much understood the desire to not speak on the subject. And if Emma could allot her that privacy, at least for the moment, then she could do the same.

"Alright, well," Emma began after another long moment's silence. "How about the first time you were with a woman? I mean, obviously I wasn't your first; no one's that good their first time." Despite the previously depressive air that hung in the room, Regina smirked at her words. But then Emma's face clouded as she realized something. "Unless that ended up being shit too. Cause I gotta say, for asking for happy stories, I'm not getting many of them."

Regina chuckled quietly. "The end of any relationship isn't generally filled with a sense of happiness, Emma, but my first with a woman didn't finish particularly horribly either. But then again, she was more hurt than I by its end, so I suppose that may be a contributing factor to my overall view on it."

"So tell me," Emma implored, looking up at her once more. But then she squished her face to the side for a moment before amending, "Just do me a favor and convince me that she was ugly as hell while you do it though. Cause… you know."

Regina laughed softly at Emma's blatant jealously. As she seemed (and proven, on more than one occasion) to be a jealous person herself, Regina found it comforting to know that at least she was not alone. Possessiveness was in their nature. "Her name was Maleficent," she began, "And yes, she was terribly hideous. I don't know what I was thinking."

Emma smirked, knowing she was lying, yet appreciating it all the same. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, dear."

Emma moved to lie flat on her back, stretching her feet out so they dangled over the edge of the bed. She looked straight upwards, her gaze catching Regina's. "Okay, so… how long did it last and why did it end?"

"I hope you know that I expect you to share your first time with a woman as well, after all of this," Regina reminded her, to which Emma just waved off with a 'yeah, yeah, yeah.' Regina rolled her eyes slightly at her flippant attitude, yet continued her story.

"It was never really a relationship," she told her. "More… what is the term that's used here for friends who sleep with one another?"

"Friends with benefits."

"Yes, except I never really considered her to be much of a friend," Regina admitted. "Of course I would refer to her as such when in her company, but she was more… a powerful ally that I wished not to lose. And so when she showed interest in other things that I could offer her, I obliged. I found she was more susceptible to giving me what I wanted then."

"So, what… you slept with her for power?" Emma asked, looking at her as though that concept was strange. "Not even for pleasure?"

"Having power was where I found my pleasure, dear," Regina told her gently, knowing this was something Emma had never really been exposed to. "My mother… she taught me at a very young age that sex was nothing but a bargaining tool. We slept with who we must to get ahead in life; outside of that, it was a fairly useless act."

Emma curled her lip up in disgust. "You know that's seriously fucked up, right? Especially for your mom to tell you that shit."

"That was the way of things where I came from," Regina reminded her, "at least within the royal families. Still, it seemed Maleficent had forgotten that, and she allowed her feelings for me to override her good sense. And when she realized that it meant more to her than it did to me, she grew very angry."

"Well, yeah," Emma responded, curling her arms into herself as she shivered slightly. "You were using her. Think most people would be pissed about that."

"Well, at the time," Regina began, chewing slightly on her bottom lip at the judgmental tone in Emma's voice. "It was all I knew. After everything that had happened in my life, everything that I had gone through, I believed it was what I should do. It was the only thing that made sense at the time, and the only way to get what it was that I wanted. Now however, looking back on it, I do regret it. I cared for her; perhaps not as much as she cared for me, but enough to feel badly for breaking her heart. She didn't deserve that. But then again…"

Regina trailed off slightly, averting her gaze from Emma as she admitted softly, thinking of Leopold and the things she was forced to do for him under the banner of 'marriage'. "I believe we all are forced to go through things we do not deserve, at least once in our life. It is just the way of the world, or so I had always been led to believe."

Emma looked up at her, wrapping her arms around her form. Concern shone beneath her eyes as she read between the lines. "Someone used you once?"

"Mm," Regina confirmed softly, still unable to look down at Emma's prying gaze. She shook her head, forcing herself to smile, even though she knew Emma could see right through it. "But that is a conversation for another day."

Emma pursed her lips, but accepted the fact that Regina didn't wish to talk about it with a nod. Her hands ran up and down her arms very quickly, yet briefly, as another shiver wracked her body. This time, it drew Regina's attention. "Are you alright?"

"Fine. Just… tired, or whatever."

The answer was quick and dismissive, and sounded nothing at all like the truth.

"You were shivering."

Emma moved out of Regina's lap then, as though she were trying to purposely get away from this conversation's end, which only stood to further Regina's rapidly growing paranoia. "Yeah, well… window's open. It's a little cold."

"It's nearly summer."

"Doesn't mean it can't be chilly. Jesus, Regina, what's with the third degr—hey!"

Emma's sentence was cut off by Regina grabbing her wrist, stilling her from moving any further away as she slapped her hand to the blonde's forehead. Her breathing shallowed; Emma was burning up. "How long have you felt like this?!" Regina demanded, nearly scrambling off the bed in her haste to get a thermometer. She needed to know how bad it was.

"I don't know, a half hour?" Emma responded, trying to make her voice sound light to brush it off as nothing. But her voice sounded hoarse, her face was already deathly pale, and honestly, there was nothing she could do to make Regina believe that this wasn't as bad as she thought. "Come on Regina, just leave it, I'm just… I'm tired okay? I need to get some sleep, that's all. It'll pass. I mean the nausea passed, right?"

"Yes, to make way for a fever," Regina snapped after grabbing what she needed out of the bathroom. "And once this passes, what will be next? Convulsions?"

"Oh come on, it's just a little—mphh!"

Emma's words were cut off by Regina practically shoving the thermometer in her mouth, and the blonde glared at her fiercely. She opened her mouth to speak, but Regina grabbed her chin in her hand and warned her, "If you don't allow me to take your temperature, so help me."

Emma didn't seem too pleased by that, yet sunk back into the pillows, the glare remaining etched on her features, and said nothing.

After a moment it beeped and Regina took it from Emma without even allowing the woman to look at it herself. She knew if it was bad she would clear it and lie. Once she took a look at the numbers, her stomach dropped. "A hundred and two point five," she told her, feeling herself beginning to panic. She threw the thermometer on the bedside table and got to her feet, informing her, "I'm taking you to the hospital."

"No!" Emma exclaimed, sitting upright in bed so fast that the movement seemed to make her either dizzy or nauseous. Perhaps both. She groaned, taking a moment to gather her bearings before telling her, "I'm not going to the hospital, Regina. I'm just… I'm not."

"You don't have a choice!" responded Regina fiercely. "I told you that if it got any worse that I would—!"

"They'll lock me up!" Emma shouted, her face masking into one of pure panic. The last bit of color drained from her face at the thought, and she looked like she was going to be violently ill. "They'll… Regina, fuck, they'll throw me in some room and lock the door, and after that they'll… I don't know, put me into a treatment center or something and fucking throw away the key. Don't you get it? I can't just go in like this and then walk out of there, they won't let me!"

Emma was beginning to breathe heavily, her eyes wild and frightened, and Regina instinctively sat down on the bed and began to hush her, attempting to allot Emma some semblance of calm. She didn't realize how badly Emma would react to the thought of being contained, but then again, perhaps she should have expected it; the woman had spent a fair amount of time in prison, after all, and she doubted that it was a good experience for her. Actually, after this, Regina was certain that it was not.

"Emma, Emma… breathe, okay?" Regina tried, running her hands soothingly along her arms. "Just breathe."

Emma shook her head wildly, tears beginning to fall from her eyes. Regina worried that she had thrust her into a memory she did not want to remember, and her heart ached with guilt. Emma crumbled before her, falling to her arms as she buried her head in the crook of the brunette's neck. "Don't make me," she begged her through her tears. "Please, Regina, don't make me. I swear I'll never touch another drop of liquor in my life if you just— fuck, please, just take care of me. You're the only one that I…!" But Emma's last words were lost to her, dissolving into sobs.

"Okay," Regina conceded in a whisper, despite the fact that the answer was going against everything that she knew was smart. But Emma was breaking before her, frightened by the prospect of being locked away again, and the last thing Regina wanted to do was upset her even more, as it would only stand to make things worse. "Okay. It's okay, shh…"

Wrapping her arms around Emma's shivering form, Regina kissed her on the forehead and told her softly, "I'll try, alright? I promise you that I'll try."

[x]

Regina had silent tears running down her cheeks as she held Emma during her fitful slumber, pressing a cool cloth to the woman's cheek and forehead every now and again. She was trying to at least make Emma somewhat comfortable, as being wrapped tightly in blankets was not furthering that in the slightest. But Regina needed her to try to sweat out her fever, and this was the only way she could think to do so. Still, though Emma's temperature hadn't risen anymore, it hadn't yet dropped either.

And that frightened her.

Fever. Hallucinations. Convulsions. Death.

The words kept replaying over and over in her mind, and it took everything that Regina had in her to not dial nine-one-one on her cell phone. Still, her watery eyes kept glancing over to it now and again, wondering when the inevitable moment would come when Regina finally put Emma's safety over her comfort. If Henry had been sick like this, she wouldn't have cared how frightened he was of the hospital, as his health mattered more. And to her, Emma's health still outranked, but a small part of Regina feared upsetting her further, as she felt as though she had done nothing but that ever since the curse broke.

They had made progress since then. Perhaps it wasn't great progress, but Emma no longer looked at her as though the sight of her made her physically ill. In all honesty, Regina wasn't really sure where they were in regards to their relationship, as it seemed they had been all over the map lately, but she knew one thing was for certain, and that was that they were at least in a better place than they were the day that their love became their undoing.

Perhaps it was selfish, perhaps it was so utterly foolish, to fear taking three steps back when they finally managed to take one forward, but it was the sole reason that she had yet to call an ambulance. Emma would never forgive her if she found herself contained, despite the fact that it may save her life.

So Regina brushed the fallen tears from her eyes with the back of her hand, pressed the cool cloth to Emma's burning skin, and prayed that she would get better on her own. And if she did not, then Regina knew what she had to do, despite how betrayed Emma might feel because of her decision.

A low, pained moan filled the silence of the room as the blonde stirred in Regina's arms, trembling slightly as another chill ran through her body. She did not awaken though, and Regina found herself glad for it, as she didn't want Emma to witness how badly she was falling apart during all of this. She needed to be strong for her, to be the one who reassures her that everything will be fine. The more frightened she got, the more it would rub off on Emma.

But the woman was asleep now, so Regina allowed her emotions to consume her as another tear slipped down her cheek. "Please get better," she murmured, "Please, please get better. You're scaring me to death."

This wasn't fair. Emma was the strongest person Regina had ever known, and to see her so pale, so frail, frightened her beyond measure. Emma Swan had always been this fierce force of nature, barreling through the world with such ferocity and strength. And yet there she lay, curled up into Regina's arms, and in that moment she looked so terribly small and fragile. It made Regina choke on a sob as she tried to suppress its volume, afraid of waking the slumbering woman with her sorrow.

This was her fault.

Regina had tried not to blame herself for this, as she only created the circumstances that led to Emma being unable to face the world; it was the woman in her arms that did not choose a healthier coping mechanism, and yet still it tore Regina apart inside to know that none of this would have come about if not for the choices she had made, and the lies that she had relentlessly told.

Regina found Emma's hand beneath the weight of the comforter, tangled their fingers together, and held on tight. She never wanted to let her go.

She wanted to protect her, heal her, save her. Regina felt so completely helpless that the feeling rose up inside of her with such ferocity, and she cursed every God she knew that she was unable to do so. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. Emma didn't deserve this pain, this suffering, and Regina wanted more than anything else to give up every future moment of her own happiness, just so Emma could never again feel so helpless, so utterly lost and broken.

Regina loved Emma with everything in her heart and then some, so much that sometimes it felt as though she couldn't contain it. Like now. It felt as though it was pushing outward, desperately reaching for the woman that created its existence in the first place; finding its home. And then it was touching her, it was filling her, it was—

Regina audibly gasped as Emma awoke with a start, her hand squeezing Regina's tightly as the feeling barreled heavily into the blonde's body, consuming her, completing her. And then Regina realized, with wide eyes and gasping breathes, that it wasn't love at all.

It was magic.

"Regina," Emma gasped, her skin beginning to glow with a soft golden hue. But Regina couldn't answer her; her breath had caught in her throat, her eyes widening with disbelief as she suddenly recognized what was happening. She was healing her.

But that was impossible. Magic didn't exist outside of Storybrooke, and even if it did, Regina's magic was born from something far too dark to achieve this kind of thing. Never, not once in Regina's entire life, had she ever been able to heal either herself or another. That required a kind of purity that did not reside within the magic coursing through her veins.

And yet, it was happening.

It only took moments, but it felt like a lifetime of them staring into each other's eyes with disbelief and wonderment. And then it was gone, the magic dissipating after its task had been accomplished. Both women were breathing heavily, still staring at one another, until quite suddenly Emma untangled their linked hands, threw off her covers, and practically scrambled away from her.

"How…?" she asked, eyeing Regina as though she was unsure if she should be thankful or mistrustful. The color was back in her cheeks again, and she looked as healthy as ever, despite the red, tiredness of her eyes. It was the most beautiful sight Regina thought she had ever seen and she laughed, relief washing through her so suddenly that the happiness seemed to make her a little delirious.

Emma's brow crinkled at the reaction, and Regina wished she could stop laughing, but she just couldn't. It was insane, it was impossible, but it was wonderful.

"I don't know," Regina told her once her laughter had mostly subsided. A wide smile was still etched onto her face though and she shook her head, pushing the hair back from her eyes and she chuckled once more. "And God, I don't even care."

Because in the end, it didn't even matter why it happened; Regina was just so very happy that it did.

TBC…