Emma shows up for morning coffee with Ruby on Sunday, when most of the town is attending church or some kind of fairytale equivalent in the woods; a time when Emma is usually amongst the citizens sleeping off a hangover at home.
This morning, though, her head is surprisingly clear. Even though it means a hundred competing worries can throw themselves around in there, on the surface at least, Emma feels calm.
Something about Henry's plea to Regina has knocked a kind of sense into Emma, and though the feeling is about as secure as ice on a pond in early April, she's reluctantly decided to try something closer to sobriety for a while.
After all, if the Evil Freakin' Queen can climb down from her high horse to offer some subtle help, all to make their kid happy, then Emma figures she has to at least try to get back to the person she was a year ago, when Snow White was just a cartoon and Emma's wildchild drinking binges were something she'd allegedly grown out of.
"Here's your coffee," Ruby says with a smile. "Sure you won't have cocoa?"
"It just makes me sleepy," Emma admits. "And I've got a long ass day ahead of me."
"Regina got you working a little overtime?" Ruby asks, one eyebrow raised. Of everyone, she's been the most understanding, and the most capable of standing up to Regina without straight-up antagonizing her.
Sometimes Emma thinks about suggesting her parents use Ruby more in trying to restructure the town, because the girl is a lot smarter than anyone gives her credit for, but showing any kind of engagement only leads to more headaches and Snow signing Emma up for all kinds of voluntary crap she has no time for. Their relationship is strained enough these days without Emma shirking her princess duties, too.
"Granny's just mixing the pancake batter; church gets out soon," Ruby explains, taking the stool next to Emma's and swinging her long legs lazily.
"Not for me," Emma demurs. "Regina made breakfast, before Henry took her hiking, so..."
"I had her pegged for the granola and grapefruit type," Ruby muses. "She almost never orders the food in here, didn't even when we were cursed."
"Well, it turns out she makes some insanely good French toast," Emma confides. "And she did something funky with the coffee, too. It tasted kinda like nuts. But still like coffee? It was pretty awesome."
"Guess that solves the mystery of why you moved into the big mansion, huh?" Ruby teases, splaying her fingers out on her thighs beneath her still spotless apron. Emma knows in a few hours it'll be splashed with grease and coffee and sticky fingerprints from kids, like every other day. For now though, the cotton is reassuringly clean and starched, almost like new.
"I don't want to talk about Regina," Emma reminds her friend. "Why don't you tell me what you've been doing while I've been getting cats out of trees, hmm?"
"Actually, I do have a little bit of gossip," Ruby admits, leaning in and treating Emma to a dazzling smile. "Wait 'til you hear about Belle..."
"Did you walk here?" Ruby asks, as Emma drips all over the diner floor. While Emma has water running off her blue leather jacket, thin gray sweater and black jeans, Ruby is the very picture of dryness in her off-the-shoulder black sweater and skin-tight red pants. How she does a whole shift in her towering wedges is beyond Emma, whose feet object even to the gentle heel of the boots she's so used to wearing for tramping around on her Sheriff patrols.
"No, Rubes, I just opened my sunroof for shits and giggles," Emma snarks, glad to be indoors at last. "Of course I walked. It wasn't pouring when I left."
"Someone's grumpy," Ruby scolds, gesturing around the empty diner for Emma to pick a seat. "Sit down, I'll bring you a dry sweater, at least."
Emma waits impatiently for something not-soaked in rain, but Ruby doesn't take long at all. When she's commandeered the ladies room and changed, Emma joins Ruby at the counter for what's now become a regular friend date over the past few weeks.
"Hangover?" Ruby asks as Emma pinches the bridge of her nose.
"Nah," Emma says, surprised she's not lying. "Just the regular kind of headache."
"Well, you know what the cure for that is," Ruby sing-songs, pouring them both black coffee from a steaming pot. "Or has the lesbian bed death already set in?"
"It's been two months!" Emma protests. "And you really need to stop clicking on random internet articles, it never ends well for me."
"I was trying to-oh boy-Snow was asking me all these questions, so I've been trying to clue her in," Ruby starts to explain, but she stumbles to a halt at Emma's undoubtedly horrified expression. "Well, they're trying to understand. I think they'd like to see more of you. And Henry."
"If you're gonna play messenger for my parents-" Emma starts to warn.
"I'm only suggesting it as your friend," Ruby assures her. "You want some aspirin for your head?"
"Just a glass of water," Emma says. "I'm probably dehydrated or something."
Ruby gets up to fetch the pitcher, freshly filled with ice and lemon floating in it, and while her back is turned Emma dry-swallows a couple of Regina's little helpers. They haven't exactly discussed frequent sharing, but much as the pills take the edge off Regina's urge to incinerate things when she's cranky, so they also reduce Emma's need to go beyond that second bottle of beer or glass of wine every night. It's... something.
"Here you go," Ruby says. "You know, we're having a potluck here tonight. Your parents are coming, so if Henry wanted to-"
"Fine," Emma sighs. "But in the meantime let's talk about something else, please?"
"I think we should talk about your lesbian bed non-death," Ruby decides, practically bouncing with glee. "Tell me Regina's as good as I think she is...?"
"A lady never tells," Emma cuts her off.
"Oh honey," Ruby says, shaking her head. "You might be a princess. Hell, you might be a lot of things. But you're really not a lady, and we both know it."
"I thought Regina was your mortal enemy?" Emma deflects.
"Nope. She's Snow's mortal enemy. I'm just, you know, in her pack," Ruby explains. "And if you could see how red you are right now..."
"It's not that kind of thing, okay?" Emma snaps. "We're not gonna braid each other's hair and trade gossip about my girlfriend. Because she's not my girlfriend. It's just... you know. We're trying to both raise Henry."
"You could do that in separate houses," Ruby points out, and it's far from unreasonable. "Lots of parents do, especially in this world. And I don't know exactly who you two think you're fooling, but the fact that you feel something for the Evil Queen? Is written all over your pretty face, Ems."
"That is not possible," Emma assures her, standing to leave. "Thanks for the sweater, I'll bring it back later, okay?"
"Emma-"
"Later," Emma grunts, and heads out of the diner's front door.
Inviting Regina is an accident, and probably a mistake, but Emma stands by it. Henry is actually pretty crappy about keeping secrets anyway, so even if Regina hadn't overheard the plans, the kid would have blabbed before long.
"There's no time to make lasagna," Regina hedges when Emma fumbles the invitation news to include Regina.
"I'm saying this in the hope you don't bite my head off," Emma ventures, because she's already in enough trouble one way or another. "But could you maybe make something else? We've had it twice this week already."
"It's Henry's favorite," Regina counters.
"I like all your food," Henry chimes in, a little too urgently. "I mean, except for that thing with the green beans. That's pretty gross."
And in that moment the cloying, suffocating domesticity of it hits Emma in the face, and it's six-to-five and pick 'em whether she yaks her solitary cup of coffee all over Regina's spotless kitchen floor.
"I should change," Emma manages to say, because the last of the rain soaked her on the way back too. She can feel her chest tighten, every breath a little harder than the last until the encroaching blackness comes in at the edges of her vision. Regina watches her carefully, assessing whatever signs of panic Emma is currently showing, and nods.
"Henry, come help me pick something. Emma's going to have a soak in the tub," Regina takes over, smooth and controlling as ever.
Emma bolts for the stairs, and doesn't look back.
She's not sure why Regina made the suggestion, but that huge tub does sound kind of appealing. Emma's peeling her damp things off when she spots the bottle amongst all the frou-frou toiletries that Regina hoards like someone from one of those horrible reality shows.
A scalding hot bubble bath and a bottle of Jack? That makes dinner with half the town a way more appealing prospect.
"Did it help?" Regina asks an hour later, as Emma pads contentedly into the bedroom, wrapped in Regina's black silk robe.
"Mmm," Emma confirms. "Just enough to take the edge off, though."
"You don't have to justify it to me," Regina says. "Although I do wonder what got that deer in the headlights look on your face."
"It was just a bit... much?" Emma admits with a weary sigh, slumping into the pretty armchair by the window where Regina sometimes fusses with some needlework or reading a novel before retreating to bed for the night, even if Emma is already in bed and impatiently waiting. "Arguing about dishes, about what we eat every night, and I realized we've really fallen into something here. It's working, I think?"
"So naturally," Regina mocks, crossing the room in casual strides, the skirt of her green dress parting over her thigh as she moves. "You saw something not broken and immediately attempted to blow it up?"
"It's kind of what I do," Emma confesses. "But a bath and a stiff drink aren't the most destructive things, are they?"
"No," Regina agrees, leaning over Emma in her chair. "You should know by now you don't have to be scared, Emma. Or are you still scared of me?" She demands, grabbing Emma's chin in a grip that's rough enough to pinch.
"I've never been scared of you, lady," Emma sasses, all challenge and bluster, because a part of her has been terrified for a really long time now.
"Of course not," Regina replies, releasing Emma's chin and then folding herself onto Emma's lap. "I'm really very easy to keep sweet, aren't I?"
"Yeah, right," Emma snorts, but Regina's ass is wiggling very pleasantly in Emma's lap, and it's just force of habit that has Emma sliding her hands along Regina's thighs, bare beneath the smart green dress. "Looks like someone came up here to get a little brunch."
"I came up to make sure you hadn't drowned yourself," Regina corrects, arching her neck in that way that's practically an order for Emma to kiss it. Occasionally, Emma muses, orders are worth following, especially when she feels Regina's pulse jump under her lips, the subtle scent of her perfume tickling Emma's nose.
"Shame we need to get ready and go," Emma grumbles after a few minutes. They're just a few touches from being too heated to stop, and she can't blow off dinner after telling Ruby they'd go.
"Sure?" Regina murmurs, giving her best shot at distracting Emma into canceling.
"'Fraid so," Emma says, with a lot of effort, given the way Regina's cupping her breasts in that possessive way that she has. "But I'm totally taking a rain check for later tonight."
The diner is already packed when Emma leads her little band through the door, a tray of tacos wedged under her arm. Regina had been horrified at first, but substituting a few of Emma's less-than-organic ingredients for fresh vegetables had appeased Regina enough to let it be their offering for the pot luck.
Henry rushes straight to his grandparents, offering up easy hugs as David ruffles his hair and the chatter immediately turns to school and the softball league that some parents have started on Saturday mornings. Emma watches her parents' faces follow animatedly along with his chatter, and the familiar pang of all she missed resonates in her chest.
Regina lays a hand on her shoulder then, because while she might suck at a lot of things, she sure as hell knows someone in pain when she sees it.
"Henry seems happy," Regina offers as a quiet reminder. It's all it takes to push Emma out of her sudden melancholy. For all the journey in getting here has been unbearably long and hard, there's a lot of good that came out of it in the end.
"Lemme guess," Ruby says, sliding into view. "Lasagna?"
"Actually," Emma jumps in to avoid any sniping. "Regina let me cook this time."
"Well, at least the CDC can find Storybrooke now I guess," Ruby teases, taking the casserole dish from Emma and laying it out on the table beside an assortment of other foods, some Emma's still too squeamish to ask much about.
"Emma!" Her father calls out, and honestly it might just be best to rip the band-aid off.
"David," she says, and it's warmer than she thought it might be. "Mary Margaret. Thanks for inviting us." Mary Margaret's eyes flicker to Regina for a moment, and there's no mistaking the flare of disapproval. "Ruby said the invite was for all of us, anyway."
"It was," David insists. "We wanted to talk to you about that."
"I'll go get drinks," Regina says, and it's officially the most helpful she's ever been.
"No, stay," Mary Margaret insists. "This concerns you, too. Whether I like it or not, apparently."
"What we're trying to say," David presses on. "Is that we want to try to make a more lasting peace. Henry's been telling us every week how much he's enjoying living with both of you, and although we might have had other hopes for you-"
"We're not going to stand in your way," Mary Margaret interrupts. "If nothing else, I've already cost you enough happiness in this life, Regina."
Regina looks stunned at the admission, but her eyes soon narrow again in suspicion, her hands wedged deep in her pockets, no doubt to prevent any accidental magical strangulation.
"And Emma," David continues. "I guess we gave up the right to disapprove of your choices when we put you in that wardrobe. Ultimately, we'd rather have a life with Regina in it, than any kind of life that doesn't have you."
Emma came so ready for confrontation that her nerves are still singing with the tension of it, so her parents' abrupt about-turn hits her like a punch to the gut. Maybe it's the freakout earlier, or the lingering effects of the Jack in her system, but she doesn't have a single defense left.
She cries, and God, it isn't pretty.
"Thank you," she manages to blurt out, before high-tailing it to the bathroom. Kind smiles greet her all the way, and Emma feels the compassion washing over her like another burst of magic. These people, who lived such hard lives and then got cursed by an angry queen, they can still show kindness and not get scared of stuff like this. It's just poor, broken Emma Swan who reacts to this kind of treatment like its acid poured on her skin.
She's just about cleaned herself up again when the door swings open. Expecting a mocking Regina, Emma tenses, but instead she's confronted with the sight of her mother, who's seemingly bursting to share some further news.
"The beans are almost ready!" Mary Margaret blurts, clasping her hands together in glee. "So we really need to have a proper talk about our options."
"I know what you're going to ask," Emma sighs. "And I don't want to be the one wrecking the fragile peace again, but I really don't want to go back there. I grew up here, and so did Henry. That world isn't safe for people like us. Or you, judging by our time there."
"We're talking about going back in teams," Mary Margaret explains, and in that moment Emma sees the Queen her mother was always intended to be. "Without the threat of Cora, it should be possible to resettle the land and rebuild quite quickly."
"Well, I don't have any skills you need there," Emma reminds her.
"Emma, I don't know how else to say this, so I'm just gonna say it," Mary Margaret approaches then, taking Emma's hands in her own. "I love you so much, my darling girl. And I know you don't want to be a princess, but I want so badly to be your mother, if only you'll let me."
"I want to let you," Emma admits. "But I stopped needing a Mommy a long time ago, Mary Margaret."
"I know," Mary Margaret tells her, and she makes no effort to hide the tears shimmering in her eyes. "But you've been having such a hard time. I wondered if a fresh start, without all the temptations of this world, might be just what you need?"
Emma wants to resist, and the angry teenager in her that hasn't quite left wants to throw the offer back in Mary Margaret's face, but too many years of wanting to be wanted this way takes the wind right out of Emma's sails.
"Even if I did," Emma considers. "What about Henry? What about Regina?"
"Well, you and Henry would stay with us in the rebuilt castle," Mary Margaret explains. "It's a lot more spacious than my one-bedroom apartment, that's for sure."
"And Regina?" Emma presses, because she's learned nothing in the past twenty-eight years if not how to go for the jugular.
"That's more... complicated," Snow concedes. "Before the curse we were protected from her in our land; she couldn't harm your father or me anymore. But with Rumpelstiltskin weakened, I suspect she's already considered ways around his enchantment."
"You say that like she's still the Evil Queen," Emma accuses, arms folded over her chest as she pulls away from her mother's grip.
"Emma," Snow says carefully. "She always will be. I don't know what you've been doing over there, and frankly I don't want to know. But she's been damaged for a very long time. Returning to a land full of magic is a risk we can't take with her."
"You're gonna leave her behind?" Emma demands, feeling sick to her stomach at the thought of anyone abandoning Regina like that again. Hell, even before the end of the curse and all the ugly truths that came with it, Emma had already diagnosed a pretty severe case of abandonment issues at work.
"We'll give her a choice," Snow states. "She can remain here, or when we return to the Enchanted Forest, she'll be exiled to a land that does not allow passage back to ours. It's the fairest we could think of, when half the Kingdom is still calling for her head."
"Yeah, I'm not getting into the Game of Thrones crap tonight," Emma decides. "Things are... better right now. I don't want to mess that up, okay?"
"Okay," Snow says kindly. "We'll talk next week, maybe."
"Maybe," Emma says through gritted teeth, heading back out into the diner and trying not to let her anger and confusion play out on her face. Just in time she stops her fingers from flexing into fists, because Regina cuts her off before Emma can take a seat at the long table.
"It's just Coke," Regina says, handing her a glass. "I didn't know if you wanted-"
"That's fine," Emma snaps, before smiling to ease the sudden tension. "Sorry, it's just... them. Family stuff."
"Yes, your every interaction with them reminds me why I killed most of my family," Regina says wryly. "Sorry," she amends, off Emma's shocked stare. "I forget that you people don't joke about that kind of thing."
"Emma!" Henry is already buzzed from whatever sugar he's been allowed away from Regina's watchful gaze. "Come sit with me and Gramps. I'm trying to explain soccer to him."
"I should..." Emma nods towards the empty seat.
"By all means," Regina says, her smile back to being tight and not even slightly happy. "I need to catch up with Kathryn, anyway."
Regina stalks off towards the blonde at the other end of the corner, and Emma sighs in what might be relief. It puts the conversation off for a couple of hours, at least.
"Did your mom talk to you?" David asks the minute Henry darts off to talk to some of the kids from his class.
"Yeah, but I really don't want to get into it," Emma deflects as best she can.
"I need to go back, Emma," he says, and the words are firm in a way she isn't expecting. "That's my land. That's where I mean to be buried some day, in the soil I worked with my bare hands."
"I get that," Emma says. "But apart from the first ten minutes of my life, this is my land."
"Don't make me go back without my daughter," David says, clamping a hand down on her shoulder and sounding so sad Emma's worried she might start blubbing again. "We just got you back, and a grandson, too. Please don't make us lose that just because we have a duty to everyone else."
"Seems that duty is what keeps screwing you," Emma remarks. "Maybe if you put your family first, it wouldn't be able to do that."
"Maybe you're right," David sighs. "But will you at least promise to think about it?"
"That much I can promise," Emma agrees, reaching for the bowl of mashed potatoes that's making its way round the table, just in time for Mary Margaret to take her seat opposite them. "Now what do you say we do what we all came here to do, and eat?"
The drive home is a quiet one, Henry slumped in the back of the Bug, sugar high finally worn off. Regina sits stiffly in the passenger seat, barely moving except to turn the music down when Emma's omnipresent mixtapes get a little too grungy for Regina's comfort.
"I'm going to bed," Henry grumbles as he pours himself out of the car and makes a beeline for the porch. "My tummy feels weird."
"Sugar," Emma and Regina say in unison, before breaking off and smiling at one another.
"I think we should have a nightcap," Reinga says once they're safely in the foyer. "And you can tell me whatever your mother said to have you attacking your peas like an axe murderer at dinner."
"It's nothing, Emma insists, but Regina already knows better. She leads them into the den and pours generous measures of Scotch.
"It's something," Regina corrects. "And if it's only going to annoy you into getting wasted or doing something reckless, then it's better to share. I assure you, I can take it."
"I thought you weren't judging me if I-"
"I'm only offering because you've said you don't want to be driven to that anymore," Regina amends. "Otherwise, it's your business."
"They're getting ready to go home," Emma blurts out. "And they want me to go with them. Henry, too."
"But not me," Regina states, drink in hand and eyes darker than usual. Emma expected histrionics, some shattering glass maybe; this eerie calm wasn't even close.
"I don't know exactly what... they were talking about exile," Emma offers, her own glass now heavy in her hands. "I told them I would think about it. It goes without saying that you need to get access to Henry, however it shakes out."
"Well, it sounds like something you should sleep on," Regina suggests. "So in the meantime, bed," Regina insists, standing up and pulling Emma by the hand.
"What about-"
"We won't see Henry again tonight," Regina supplies as the robe ripples to the floor. "He'll have gone in there to sleep but will be playing XBox instead. You're a terrible influence."
"If being raised by you hasn't turned him into a serial killer, video games don't stand a chance," Emma tells her, as Regina leads her patiently up the grand staircase to the second floor.
They're in no particular hurry, but there's a momentary freezing at the sound of footsteps in the hall. Thankfully Henry runs to the bathroom and no further, much to their breath-holding relief.
Regina takes advantage of the reprieve to lead them the rest of the way to her bedroom and by the time they close the door, Henry is padding quite happily back to his own room without a word.
Emma's barely done sighing in relief when Regina starts shimmying out of her dress. Although she's in the habit of leaving her lingerie on as long as possible to titillate Emma, today Regina unclasps the dark bra and slides the panties off with no ceremony at all.
"We have time," Regina murmurs. "But in case of interruption..."
She wastes no further time, tugging at Emma's clothes and pushing her closer to the bed after each item is discarded. When Emma hits the mattress she's stripped bare, and Regina doesn't hesitate to lay her own warm, naked skin over Emma's in the kind of sinuous movement that leaves her thinking there has to be magic involved. Regina's body responds like a high-performance car does, all subtle rippling of muscle and smooth acceleration. It's enough to make a girl's head spin, even without a few drinks in the tank.
Regina's mouth is relentless from the first kiss at the base of Emma's throat. Every inch of skin from collarbone to elbow, from wrist to fingertip and from nose to navel is subject to a soft kiss, a playful lick or a sassy little bite. Emma could try to assert some control, but the long, tiring day and the drinks have left her pliable, content to be thoroughly spoiled.
Not that Regina's hands stay out of it for long. They grasp at Emma's hips, tease her messy curls out of the bun she improvised for their evening out, and eventually end up with fingers laced through fingers, clasping hands together as Regina settles between Emma's thighs.
"This," Regina says, before licking in one bold stripe along Emma's wetness. "Is what I'm actually addicted to."
"Very funny," Emma groans, but any further complaint dies out as Regina's tongue picks up the pace. By the time two, and then three, fingers curl inside of her, Emma is sobbing broken words into the pillow, her back as taut as the bow she learned to use in the Enchanted Forest.
"I love you," Emma spits as Regina's fingers slow to a stop, still pressed inside Emma, lingering. "I mean actual, embarrassing like in an 80s movie, love you. Is that fucked up or what?"
"Emma-" Regina warns, because feelings are absolutely not allowed, and Emma damn well knows that already. She shifts position, grinding slowly against Emma's thigh, coating it with considerable wetness on each roll of her hips. "You don't have to say these things just because we've fucked a few times."
"Way more than a few times, Regina. You don't understand," Emma argues, pressing her fingers deftly between her own thigh and Regina's clit, rubbing hard until Regina's head drops and her back tenses in anticipation.
Barely a moment after she comes, Regina rolls off Emma and sits up, knees pulled quickly to her chest in the definition of a defensive posture. "I'm saying that I'm in love with you."
"You can't possibly know that," Regina says, squeezing her eyes closed and clearly trying not to reach for the Vicodin they both know is just a few feet from their naked bodies. "This is just a reaction to your parents' ultimatum. You don't know that."
"I do," Emma insists. "Because I've never felt it before. That's how I know. So you can stop pulling away, and freaking out. I love you, Regina. Please, please don't leave me."
"I don't want you to love me," Regina admits. "Love has been cruel enough to me for one lifetime. I don't know if I can-" she starts to say, but Emma's kissing her again, tongue absorbing Regina's words with firm strokes.
"You don't have to," Emma promises, when they part to catch their breath. "You don't."
"I didn't expect this, Regina admits. "I thought it would just be sex, for you."
"Speaking of which, I've been waiting to taste you all damn day," Emma points out, sliding across the mattress and rolling onto her stomach. "You ready for me?"
But Emma doesn't wait for an answer before pushing Regina's thighs apart. Emma's tongue flickers over Regina's clit a moment later, and any last protest dies right there on Regina's lips.
Kathryn calls just as Emma is drifting off to sleep, both she and Regina having freshened up, brushed their teeth as they've lectured Henry to do every night, and having downed a few little white pills each without comment from either of them. In the peace of the bedroom Regina is so startled at the unexpected call that she drops her phone, meaning they're both wide awake by the time the call is answered.
"Well, can't the Blue...I see," Regina is all business, which Emma's libido responds to in an instant. This insatiable thing could be a problem, only the Vicodin ever seems to tamp it down a little, and not by much.
"I have to go," Regina sighs as she ends the call. "They've found an animal they believe to be someone in cursed form. A rat, of all things. So they need someone to try turning him or her back to their correct form."
"And you're going?" Emma splutters.
"Who else can they ask?" Regina counters. "You can't use your magic properly, Rumple is still too weak to be of any use... besides, it might not hurt to show that I'm not entirely evil."
"You're trying to, what, impress my parents?" Emma asks, incredulous to say the least.
"No, but I would like to remind them how much better equipped to run a Kingdom I am," Regina says as she finishes pulling on sensible black slacks and a burgundy sweater. "Can you check on Henry before you go back to sleep? I was just about to anyway."
"Sure," Emma mumbles, pulling Regina's robe on and following her out of the bedroom. "I'm going to grab some water, too. Maybe make some tea."
"Great," Regina says, and she dashes down the stairs with urgency that Emma suspects has far more to do with her own emotional outburst than anything else.
The kitchen is lit well enough from the moon pouring through the windows, so Emma doesn't bother with the light. She opens the fridge at the same time as the front door closes, and tries to ignore the pang in her chest at being left here without Regina.
So she grabs a cold bottle of beer instead of the water jug. Emma shrugs to herself as she twists the cap off. One really isn't going to hurt.
The second bottle makes her really sleepy, so she rests her head on the kitchen table, and lets her eyes close all by themselves.
It's loud. So freakin' loud. And dark. But then there's blue lights, and maybe some streetlights, and Emma can kind of see them every time her eyes flicker open a little.
Someone is yelling her name, and it sounds like they're crying. Emma forces her eyes to open, but it takes more than just one attempt. When she does, a vaguely familiar face is leaning over her, his face streaked with some kind of dirt.
"Emma?" He asks, and that's when she remembers: Jake, the paramedic. He makes a habit to hit on her whenever their paths cross at this hospital or Granny's.
"What-" she starts to ask, but instead of words she simply wheezes.
Then Regina is there, and she's grabbing Emma's shoulders like right before they make out, and Emma wants to tell her no, because her mouth feels really dry and weird. But Regina doesn't kiss her, doesn't even try.
"What happened?" Regina says, and she's actually shaking Emma now, hard enough for it to hurt. "Emma!" Regina yells as someone pulls her away. "Where's Henry?"
Thank you, as always, for your lovely reviews, comments and questions. They really make all the difference. Only two chapters left now, would love love LOVE to hear what you think so far.