Wow! Thank you all for the reviews, follows, and favorites. I'm glad it's been so well received. I'm not always good at responding to reviews individually, even though it totally makes my day to read them, but if I haven't responded to yours yet I will.
Major discussions of childhood issues and the impacts here. Like I said before, no graphic descriptions of abuse, but very emotionally charged. This chapter was been written well before several of the previous chapters, and is one of my favorites.
Still not mine. Thanks for the encouragement go to CS and to my partner.
Chapter 9
Regina Mills was a powerful and skilled sorceress. Her many years of practice had aided her in quickly reestablishing control over her powers once she had adjusted to the changes since the enactment of the Dark Curse. But if there was one thing which could cause her to lose her ironclad grip, even on the best of days, it was the sudden reappearance of Cora Mills. Cora, who was trained by Rumpelstiltskin long before Regina had even heard his name. Cora, who used magic to ensure Regina's cooperation. Cora, who Regina previously believed dead and no longer a threat. So it was that, for the first time, Emma Swan experienced one of the more potent side effects of having combined her magical energies with Regina.
Emma found herself in a stable. Being a city girl, she was familiar with the concept but not so much actual stables. Somehow, though, she recognized this one. Looking around, she saw a young brunette woman talking to a young man, looking as though they were preparing to go on a trip. Shortly, an older brunette entered the scene. She resembled the younger woman, and Emma had the sense that they were mother and daughter. As she looked more closely, she recognized the young woman as Regina Mills, and deduced that the older woman must have been Cora. At first, it appeared to be a heartwarming scene of reconciliation and acceptance; until suddenly it wasn't. Emma watched in horror as Cora Mills plunged her hand into the young man's chest. With the future Evil Queen and Mayor watching her every move, Cora slowly crumbled Daniel's heart, and her daughter's will, in her strong, maternal hand.
The stillness inside the tree shelter was shattered by a loud cry, abruptly bringing Snow and Regina into wakefulness. From where Emma slept near the entrance, taking her turn in guarding over their little band of three, she snapped out of her nightmare-memory. She knew that what she had witnessed was real, and that somehow she had just experienced one of the most pivotal moments in the forming of the Evil Queen. Emma assured the others, who had rushed to check on her, that she was okay; however, she gave Regina a look that neither of her companions understood.
That day was given to discussing what Cora's presence meant for their plans to return to Storybrooke, and what it meant for Fairytale Land. Emma had a plan, but she knew it would not be a popular one by any means. She let Snow and Regina bicker about priorities – saving Fairytale Land versus returning to Storybrooke being the main concern. In a sign of the conflict everyone was feeling, Regina's and Snow's positions on the subject swapped more than once. Emma, though, knew that they absolutely had to get someone back to Storybrooke, and that any chance they had to restore Fairytale Land was dependent in part on getting back to begin with. Tempers flared throughout the morning, an all-out battle of wills threatening and receding several times.
It was, at least, a nice day outside. The women had set up a fire pit near the shelter for those times when one or more of them needed more room than the small space allowed for. Emma watched as Snow and Regina paced on their respective sides, knowing that something was bound to blow soon and hoping that she could help minimize the damage when it did. Emma had enough experience to know that sometimes things needed to be allowed to boil over, or they would never get resolved. She had the sense that this was one of those times, brought on not only by the extended period of forced closeness due to circumstances but also the unexpected complications which Cora presented. Suddenly the moment came when Emma could almost feel the emotional volcano which existed between Snow and Regina, as it began rumbling in earnest and prepared to blow.
"Look," Snow spoke, "we have to get back to Storybrooke. They don't even know if we're still alive or not. It's been days with no way to communicate with anyone there. I know Cora's not your favorite person, but we can't allow ourselves to be distracted right now. We have to get back to Storybrooke first. Maybe we can find a way to come back here again, later, and deal with her."
Regina scoffed. "Not my favorite person? Snow, you have absolutely no idea what that woman is like. Believe me, if we don't deal with her now there won't be a Fairytale Land to speak of and there may not be a Storybrooke to return to once she learns of it."
"So what are you telling me, that Cora's as bad as you are? Am I supposed to believe that I should be more worried about her than about having to work with the Evil Queen? What made you hate her so much anyway? She's your mother, Regina! Don't you know how lucky you are to have a mother? Neither Emma nor I ever had that chance, thanks to you!"
"Don't play innocent, Snow. You may have everyone else fooled, but I know just how selfish you really are. Just how long did you wait before running to my mother to tell her all about me and Daniel?"
"Regina, what are you talking about?"
"I know you told her what you saw. She ripped out his heart and crushed it in front of me because you just had to have a step-mom."
"Regina I-"
"Save it Snow. Cora told me what you said. How you ran to her crying because you were afraid I'd run off or be taken away by him."
"I said no such thing! Dammit Regina, that's not what I told her or how it happened."
"Oh really? Well please enlighten me then, dear."
"I wanted her to help you. I thought, if she knew how much you loved him, she would see that you belonged together. I asked her not to make you marry Daddy because you already had someone and he was great. I told her you were my friend and I wanted you to be happy."
"Why are you still trying to lie about this!"
"It's not a lie!"
Tired of watching the verbal tennis match in front of her, Emma stepped in. "Uh, Regina, forgive me but based on what I've seen and heard of Cora, why exactly are you so certain she was telling you the truth? Doesn't it make more sense that she manipulated what Snow said to suit her purposes?" Regina glared at Emma with a look so dark and full of...betrayal?...that a lesser woman would have cowered in supplication. She didn't seem to have an answer, as she simply spun on her heel and marched into the trees and away from her companions. Snow wasn't quite ready to let it go though, and started to follow her, calling out, "Regina!"
Emma placed a hand on Snow's forearm and gently suggested, "Let her go. She'll come back in a little while, just let her go for now."
"But Emma, I need to talk to her and make her understand; I would never say such things."
"I know. I believe you. But look at it this way, okay? For the past twenty-eight years, and however long before that it was that Cora murdered her fiancée, Regina has believed one thing. You've now challenged one of the central truths of her entire adult life. She needs time to let that sink in. Give her time, I promise she will come back."
"How do you know?"
"It's what I would do." Snow looked at her, obviously not understanding the connection. "Look, I think I can explain a few things about Regina to you if you want. But, I can't talk to my mom about this." At Snow's hurt look, Emma again laid a gentle hand on her arm as she continued to explain. "If I'm going to talk about this, I need you to be my best friend; Mary Margaret. Not the fairy tale Queen Snow White and my mom, okay? Indulge me." Snow just nodded. Emma realized they were still standing and indicated that they should take a seat near the fire pit. Emma fidgeted a bit, poking at the fire with a stick. Since it was still light out, the fire was a bit small and she seemed focused on moving smoldering lumps from one end to the other. Finally, curiosity got the better of Snow, who tried to remind herself to be Emma's friend Mary Margaret for now. She didn't know exactly what was coming, but she had a chilling feeling she wasn't going to enjoy it. Still, it seemed important to Emma, and possibly for Regina as well, so she braced herself and cleared her throat. "Em?"
As if remembering that the older woman was beside her, Emma sat up straighter, sighed and said, "Right, sorry. I know this probably is the last thing you want to hear, but I think Regina and I have more in common than you realize." Emma felt, rather than heard, her companion take a breath to contradict her. She raised her hand, asking for patience, and continued. "Please, just listen. This is not easy for me to talk about. In fact, this may be the first time I've really tried. So please just wait and let me get it out." Snow closed her mouth and nodded, watching Emma as she continued to poke at the fire. "I'm holding you to that agreement, because some of this will be hard for you to hear..."
Snow observed Emma's fidgeting and avoidance of the topic with increasing dread. Eventually, as her unease approached terror of what was to come, Snow realized she needed to prompt her companion to get started. "Em, I'm listening. Stop stalling, ok?"
"Okay, right. You know I grew up in the foster system. The longest I was with one family was three years, until my foster mom got pregnant and they had a real kid. They didn't need me anymore, so I was moved again. Some of the families were worse than others, although that was the best one I was in. Some of them really seemed to care, at least a little, but they were overwhelmed. You'd be surprised how many kids are in foster care, so when a family is willing to take in several kids they quickly get filled up, and sometimes the social workers don't stop there. So even the ones who wanted to do right by us didn't have the time or the resources. But the myths you hear about abusive foster parents? They're not myths, okay. I was on the wrong end of a fist many times."
This was old hat to Emma, but she realized that her friend had been very sheltered in Storybrooke. And, for just a passing moment, she allowed herself to acknowledge that this woman was also her mother. In that moment, she paused for two reasons. First, she couldn't help wondering how she would feel if she was in Snow's place, listening to her son Henry talk about these experiences. Once that thought was planted, she knew she needed to give Snow time to digest what she had said so far and prepare for what was still to come. As she looked towards her friend and mother, she knew she was right to wait a bit. Snow sat unnaturally still, with just a trickle of tears and the slightest tremble to her mouth. Emma knew it was taking all of her self-control to respect the request to remain quiet, and loved her that much more for it. Snow was aware of Emma's quiet observation and, after a few tense moments, gave a slight nod that she was ready to hear more.
Emma was not a naturally affectionate person, but she knew Snow needed some reassurance. She quietly tapped her boot against Snow's foot and rested it next to her; a small, almost insignificant connection, but a connection nonetheless. She resumed her story. "A few times it was a belt or electrical cord. Sometimes it was just whatever was closest at hand, easiest to throw. Some of the foster parents were a bit handsy, and not just the dads. And believe me, as bad as abusive men can be, women are even worse. No one wants to believe a mother could ever hurt her children, so they get away with it much more often. Women also seem to have a natural charm. One of the worst foster moms I ever had, she went to church every single week, sometimes twice a week. She did Sunday School and all the big church functions. She was a respected, senior member of the local legal profession. Everyone loved her. No one would have ever suspected that at home she was...inappropriate; especially with the girls. She insisted we let her come and go in the bathroom while we were bathing or showering, and sometimes made us sit with her while she took a bath. That, uh, that wasn't nearly the worst of it but...well, anyway the point is no one would have believed if anyone had tried to report her. She was the perfect all-American, hard-working soccer mom. We were clean, clothed and well fed, but I felt less safe there than just about anywhere else. At least with the violent ones, I had some idea what to expect. It's easier to protect and fight back against an openly violent threat. With a beating, when it's over, it's over. Welts heal, bruises fade. You wear long sleeves or jeans, or just let everyone know what a klutz you are. But when you're stuck with someone who refuses to let you even have boundaries, much less respect them, there's no getting away from that."
Emma paused and took another breath. She was well aware that even many people who considered themselves knowledgeable about abuse had little awareness of the type of pervasive violations she was trying to describe as delicately as she could.
Snow's heart was breaking, and again a slow stream of tears was escaping as she tried to comprehend what it would be like to live only as an extension of someone else, and not as one's own self. She refocused on Emma as she continued, "The drunks, you learned pretty quick to get out of the way when they started drinking, and where the best hiding places were. Most of them were pretty stupid, or at least the drink kept them that way. Eventually, they'd pass out and the danger was gone for a while. But this woman, she was smart. Clever. And believe me, there is nothing worse than an intelligent, cunning abuser."
Snow, unable to sit quietly any longer, wiped her cheeks and reached out to take her daughter's hand. "Emma, honey, I don't know what to say. I know it doesn't help but I'm so sorry I couldn't be there for you."
Emma gave a start, so focused had she been on reminiscing. "No, that's not why I told you. I don't need pity or sympathy. I don't think anyone who's lived through those things wants that. It's over and done."
A little shocked at Emma's vehemence, Snow nevertheless understood and immediately backed off, saying only, "Okay, so why did you tell me?"
At that moment, Regina revealed herself. "Yes, Miss Swan, why this little stroll down Bad Memory Lane?"
Speaking to both women, Emma looked only at Regina, silently willing her powerful, troubled counterpart to understand that no one in this clearing was her enemy. "Because, as horrible as that woman was, I cannot even begin to imagine what she could have been like if she'd possessed even a fraction of Regina's magic. And I'm willing to bet that, especially as a child and young woman, Regina's magic was no match for Cora's. I'd also gamble that Cora used her magic freely to make sure little Regina did exactly as she wanted, nor held back on punishments when she was angry. And because, if the child Regina was anything like me, she still would have tried so hard to please her, even as she plotted ways to get free. I, at least, had the comfort of knowing that I would eventually be moved to a new home. Regina was stuck with Cora her whole life." Regina held Emma's eyes for a few beats, her expression dark and unreadable, as Snow looked on and processed all she had heard. For the first time, she started to feel like she had some insight into the source of Regina's darkness. If what Emma said was true, that certainly explained a lot.
"Yes, well. The light is starting to fade. I suggest we make sure we have all we need for the night. If you will excuse me, I'll go get some more wood for the fire." Outwardly betraying nothing of her feelings after hearing Emma's confession, Regina turned and walked back towards the tree line, pointedly ignoring the sizable pile of firewood she passed on the way.
Snow turned to her daughter once Regina was out of sight and took a gentle breath. "Emma," she quietly spoke, "thank you."
"For what?"
"For sharing, for explaining things I never thought about, for trusting me with that information. Just...thank you." As Snow spoke, Emma gave a tender smile and, surprising even herself, pulled Snow close for a brief hug.
That evening, as they cleared away the remains of their dinner, Regina broke the tenuous silence. "So, Miss Swan, how is it a street-wise former foster kid and bail bonds-person thinks she knows enough about psychology to diagnose an Evil Queen?" she inquired, with only minimal sarcasm.
After the earlier exchange, Emma had been expecting this question. "Mostly personal experience," she replied. "Plus, most social workers have a love affair with therapy. Foster kids are pushed into therapy whether they want it or not. It's kinda the same thing as the foster parents – sometimes you get one that really gives a damn and knows what they're doing. Mostly they either want the state's money or they mean well but aren't especially good.
"Mmm, hmm"? Regina acknowledged.
"Of course," Emma continued, "there was the Police Academy as well."
Both Regina and Snow abruptly stopped what they were doing and turned to stare at Emma. Snow was the first to ask, "You were a cop?"
"Yup. Did that not show up in your little background check, Regina?"
Regina stammered. "No, I..."
"Let me guess; you stopped when you found out I had Henry while in jail." Something akin to chagrin flitted across Regina's face, for but a moment.
Snow redirected the conversation." How long were you a cop? Where?"
"Not very long," was Emma's answer. "Turns out, I seem to have a bit of an issue with authority."
"You don't say," Regina mocked.
Snow spoke as though Regina had not. "What happened?"
"My Training Officer got a little too handsy. I made it very clear that his advances were unwelcome, and did my best to discourage him from a repeat performance."
Offended on Emma's behalf, Snow inquired, "And you were fired for that?"
Emma reminded herself that Snow was not really from her world, and that for the twenty-eight years she was there she was a school teacher in a small town that literally did not change. "I was still in the probationary period. I couldn't prove anything and he was a veteran on the force that everyone loved. It's not hard to see how that's going to end."
Regina was curious about another point. "How ever did you get accepted into a police program to begin with? You'd been in jail already.
"Juvie," was the simple answer. "Sealed records, fresh start. Not much good happens for a foster kid when they turn eighteen – the state pretty much kicks you to the curb and says 'good luck, figure it out yourself' – but the one good thing to happen is all offenses committed as a juvenile are sealed. How did you get those records, anyway?"
"I wasn't Mayor for twenty-eight years without learning a few tricks for dealing with the world beyond Storybrooke," Regina answered, with a hint of mischievous pride.
Emma accepted that with a wry grin and stood to enter the shelter for the night.
As the women prepared to go to bed, Regina asked something that had been in the back of her mind since the earlier confrontation. "Emma, you didn't seem exactly surprised by the things Snow and I said earlier. Is that related to what woke you this morning?" As an experienced practitioner, Regina had her suspicions.
Emma promptly confirmed them. "I saw what she did to Daniel."
"Ah. Well. That explains that, then."
"Wait," Snow interjected. "How is that possible?"
"Correct me if I'm wrong, Regina, but I think that over the course of having combined our magic so many times, plus all the training, Regina and I are somehow linked magically. I've noticed it in little things, like my magic sparking if Regina is close. Then there's the big things like the tent, and of course the Wraith. I don't know exactly why I dreamed her memory, except that maybe the shock of Cora shook something loose."
"Close enough, Emma." Regina really couldn't have explained it better. Using bigger words and a more clinical detachment, certainly, but not better. It had been an emotionally draining day for each of the women, for a number of reasons. Without further discussion, they settled in and went to sleep for the night.