Author's Note: This chapter took me much more time because OpenOffice has, apparently, decided to wage war with me. ...To which I, after hours of trying to get it to work properly, said "screw you" and returned to my true love, Microsoft Word. I have learned my lesson and will never abandon it again. I love you with all my heart, Word. I just wanted you to know that. ;_; ...So yeah, this chapter kind of reflects my feelings about OO ticking me off. (Hint: Angst.) I still have no idea where I'm going with this. Be warned, as there's OOCness ahead.
You don't know what to expect as you stand on the front porch and hesitate to ring the bell. It's Regina, after all. You're one hundred percent certain she's up to something, but you can't put your finger on what potential harm could lie in an innocent conversation, as long as Henry's not present. But by now, and judging by the darkness in his room that you can see when you look up, Henry has been tucked in and is sound asleep, unless he's hiding in the wardrobe, waiting for you to walk into Regina's office. Then again, he should have no idea. He doesn't. You feel relieved when your brain reminds you that she is still treating him like a mother treats a child, though she is insensitive to his feelings. You don't think that overprotectiveness makes her evil. It's the yearning for absolute truth to be on her side at all times, disregard the consequences, that makes her evil.
In the end you resort to a tentative knock. It only takes a second for her to open and invite you in. The Mayor's house is like a lion's den. It's huge and everywhere you look, you can see her; in the bear hide on the floor and the stairway spiraling upward; in countless old books, neatly arranged in numerous bookshelves with not even a speck of dust around the edges. It's tidy, meticulous and predatory and it makes you uncomfortable. When things seem too perfect, it's time to rip the disguise apart and find out the reason they are, in fact, rotten to the core. You're here to do that, you remind yourself. There has to be a reason, and you can deal with reasons much better than the results.
First of all, you should probably deal with the reason why you're here. Scientific curiosity? Maternal instincts? Maybe a mixture of both. Or maybe there's something else too.
The two of you sit down opposite one another in the very same room you found yourself in the first time Henry brought you to Storybrooke. Instead of cider, she offers you some quality white wine and you gladly accept, because you've got a hunch it's going to be a long night. It feels awkward, to say the least. You should probably say something, but you're at loss of words.
Fortunately, Regina seems to have this whole conversation planned; no doubt down to your every response and reaction. You don't know what she expects, but you know she does. "Miss Swan, I am going to be honest with you. I know why you came here; I don't blame you. It's what any decent person would have done. What escapes me is why you refuse to leave."
Not exactly how you imagined this starting. You really don't feel like explaining this all over again. More importantly, you can't fathom why the issue needs explaining. This woman's thinking on an entirely different frequency than you are, it seems.
"Don't get me wrong, I know you care about Henry. He's a bright young man, and we both know he has a way of worming into people's hearts," she continues and pride is virtually resonating from her. "But you didn't care ten years ago, so why begin now?"
She narrows her eyes at you and you grit your teeth. This is but a cleverly phrased insult to both you and Henry. "Madam Mayor, it really isn't your place to judge me and tell me what I did or didn't." You know where this is going, but you keep your cool. She's not worth getting worked up for.
"You left him, knowing someone like me would eventually come along and accept him as their own, and you didn't even stop to think about who that person was going to be. Henry could have been much less lucky, but at least your ignorance delivered him to me," she spits and her words sting like poison and she's not worth it, she's not worth it, she is just not worth it. "And now you are trying to tear him away from his true family, from the place he has roots in, where he is loved and looked after. Do you have any idea how cruel you are?"
"How cruel I am?" You're about this close to getting up and punching her in the face. She's turning it all upside down. You only get past the getting up part. So does she. "How cruel I am? I'm not the one who's trying to convince him his mother thinks the worst of him and is trying to hurt him. You can't even begin to imagine how much of an impact this has on a ten year old child!"
"And I presume you're going to tell me all about it." She crosses her arms over her chest defensively, but her voice is cool as ice and if you had time to think about it, in comparison, it would make you think you need to sign up for anger management lessons with Mr. Hopper.
"I never found my parents! I grew up believing my whole life was a mistake of such epic proportions they wanted me dead from the very beginning! I never had a home, I never had a single person who cared, I've always made my own breakfast, I've always taken myself to the doctor, I've always given myself Christmas presents because no one wanted to be friends with the kid from the freeway! Henry, on the other hand, has at least two people who love him, which for some reason seems to be a crime in this town. Didn't you wonder, for just a little while, why he would run away and look for me?" You know the answer, but still you half expect her to cut you off. Instead, she stares at you, surprised by your sudden outburst. "Because that's all he ever wanted! What would you do to get what you wish for?"
All of a sudden, you're standing right in front of her, engaging in a fierce battle in whose glare can pierce the other faster, your chest is heaving, your cheeks burning, your fists clenched and you're not sure whether you want to perform a first grade war cry and kick her sorry ass or go curl up in a corner. You realize the first is not really an option, because no matter what you think of her, you're sure that deep down, Henry likes her. That's the only thing that keeps you from doing something you might regret. She has an unreadable, absentminded expression, like she's trying hard to remember something.
Then it dawns on you. How, for all that's sacred, could you be so stupid? This is what she was anticipating and you didn't know. She brought you here to get valuable information out of you, to hurt you. She figured if she couldn't make you disappear, she could at least make you miserable, and you walked right into her trap like a meek little lamb. Or worse, she was trying to rub in all the things Henry has that you don't, so that you envy him, envy your own son. She wanted you to tell her all about it.
All your rage is gone. You've lost. You've lost because you stubbornly refused to believe there was no good in this woman, and you can only see now that you were wrong. "How can you live with yourself," you whisper, grab your jacket off the couch and head straight for the door.
"Emma!" she calls out to you, but you don't listen. She has no right to call you Emma. She has no right to call you anything at the moment.
"You'll be back," she says, although coming from her, it sounds more like wishful thinking.
You turn to her one last time. "No, I won't."
Henry's castle it is.