AN: First of all, I am SO sorry for not updating sooner. I went through some personal BS but things finally got better again and I managed to sit down and write this third chapter to 'love love love', just two more chapters after this one are missing and I'll do my best to squeeze writing into my tight Uni and Work Schedule, if everything works out I'll manage to hopefully write Fridays/Saturdays :) I'll try my best to do that!
AN2: This is unbetaed, I went through it trice, but chances are I missed typos or mistakes, please forgive me for them.
AN3: If anyone would like to hear the songs used for this chapter, and last chapter; both are from Asaf Avidan :)
Hope you enjoy! Please let me know what you think!
Your Anchor
And I said baby you're my Diamond,
She said no baby I'm just a Pick.
I said well baby, you must be Magic,
She said no I'm just a, I'm just a Trick.
oOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooO ooOooOoo
In a sudden hurry you rush through the still empty streets. The town is still sleeping, she most likely besides you the only one awake. Once your beetle is parked in front of the mayoral mansion on Mifflin Street 118, you rush to the door, still finding it unlocked just like you had it left behind. This time you don't bother to take off your boots, you know she won't fuzz about it, not with what she's about to hear from you. You are calling her name, while running through the house, up the staircase and towards the bedroom she still has to occupy. You don't notice it, not then, you don't sense that something seems oddly out of place. A smile on your features you burst through the closed bedroom door, not wondering in the slightest why the door you had left open is suddenly closed. What follows is her name dying on your tongue, accompanied by your faltering smile.
The bed is empty, neatly made but empty. No trace, no evidence of the past night. With a sinking feeling settling into your stomach you step further into the room. The bathroom. You think, yes she has to take a shower, you tell yourself despite the silence, despite the missing noise of water cascading down the tiled walls. Still, you check only to find her en-suite bathroom empty too. Your eyes register that some things seem to have disappeared, still your brain refuses to acknowledge said fact, pushing the painful truth as far away as possible.
She isn't gone, you tell yourself. She can't be, but she is.
Eventually you accept that more of her belongings are gone, not much just things you know she holds dear, still you refuse to believe that she disappeared with them, not even the missing Mercedes convinces you. It's a note sitting on the kitchens counter top, five words written on plain white in the all too familiar handwriting that causes reality to settle within your mind.
It is better this way.
She has left Storybrooke, has left Henry — has left you behind.
It's your fault that she is gone you know that much, know that she would still be here if you wouldn't be such a coward, if you would have accepted what you had sensed all along.
The note clutched in your hand you wander restless through the mansion, your mind filling with the memories you had made here. They had seemed unimportant, at first. Nothing of matter, after all you only came here to sooth her, to make her feel better, and if so only for a short moment. It had been a task, something you had to do, nothing you would enjoy. Or so, you had told yourself, each time you had knocked on her door.
Eventually, subconsciously you had reached the bedroom, the last room the two of you had been in together. The paper wrinkling in your right fist, you sit down, you still can smell her, feel your skin moving against hers. Night after night you had spend here, they had seemed monotone, always the same, but now, the more you think about it, the more unique they seem to become.
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Regina?
You had let yourself in that night, she hadn't answered the door, something she had never done before. You knocked and she opened, almost as if she waited somewhere near by the white painted wood for your knock. You knew she was at home, were else could she be after all? Going out wasn't an option for the Evil Queen — former, you remind yourself. No you had noticed that Regina wasn't the woman anymore people painted her to be, she had changed and you hoped that eventually, others would agree and see in her what you could see.
Something had been up, that much was clear. You had called for her again, your feet carrying you through the spacy house. She didn't answer, or perhaps she did and you just couldn't hear it given the state she was in, when you found her. She had slurred your name, a wide smile on her features, upon seeing you entering her study. It didn't take you long to get a hold of the situation. In front of the former Mayor stood an empty glass, one that most likely had contained apple cider before, but the cider hadn't been the only cause of her rather unusual state. Besides the empty glass were packages littered across the table's surface. Packages you easily recognized as cold medication and cough drops among other things that could be found in drugstores. Your mind concluded quickly, counting two and two together.
Do you know that – that I never get ill?
She had drawled, a look of displeasure on her face. It made sense, not once in her regain during the curse she must have been ill, back in their land perhaps, but there she had magic to deal with it. Briefly you had pondered to ask her if she's sure about that, but the state your former nemesis was in, didn't call for any nasty comments, teasing or the like. So you had decided not to comment on her attempt to solve her problem with alcohol and drug store meds; a combination as you well had known wasn't the best. Instead you had taken a seat next to her, had placed your hand against her forehead to check for her temperature.
You're hot.
The 'feeling' had been missing, but you still believe that it wouldn't have made much of a difference to her then. She had giggled, something you had never heard her do, before she had slurred something that came close to 'I'm glad you think so'. You hadn't really thought about your next comment and the move that had followed it either, it had triggered another giggle, something you had suddenly felt like you wouldn't grow tired of hearing, so you continued to walk her towards the stairs, your arms wrapped securely around her weak frame. She had leaned more on you, than standing on her own, something that if you were honest with yourself, hadn't bothered you as much as you'd like to admit. Eventually you had managed to get her up the stairs and into her bedroom, something that had taken longer than what you would consider usual for the two of you, that – despite her state, hadn't been what had surprised you, it had been her pushing you away rather harshly before she stumbled into the large room's middle.
I can do that.
She had mumbled, had most likely meant to undress and get comfortable by herself to prove a point of independence, or so you had figured. You know it'd take longer, much longer than with your help, still you had let her. The still rather evident slur in her voice, and the way she stumbled and staggered across the carpeted floor of her bedroom in an attempt to get the tight skirt off she still – despite of having lost the office long ago; wore, had at least proven to be entertaining while you had waited for her to disappear beneath the covers. You hadn't dared to interfere, not sure then if you had feared more her temper or enjoyed the show. You just had let her, telling yourself that she needed this. Eventually Regina had managed to dress herself into one of those satin negligées, the kind that you thought should be forbidden for her to wear, and had snuck into bed. Then, your mind had briefly wandered had played with the scenario that had lead you come here in the first place. Briefly you had shaken your head, ridding yourself of images that were sure to play out any other night. Instead you had focused on the woman, that at one point during your difficult relationship had oozed nothing but dominance and power, things that had seemed to be missing that night more than ever,
Regina had almost disappeared completely below the duvet just her nose and eyes had remained uncovered. You hadn't quite known then what to do with her or the situation. Ideas of cooking her noodle soup and tea for the had filled your mind, the thought that this'd be too domestic for the two of you had been pushed aside, instead you had kept looking at her, not noticing how she had tried to read your expression. Regina had remained silent since she had insisted on getting changed and to bed by herself, it were her eyes that had spoken volumes then, once you had snapped out of your haze, you had noticed that she had stared up at you expectantly, with something between hope and fear written into her deep brown eyes. She hadn't been ill in twenty-eight years – if ever before. She had dealt with Henry's illnesses perhaps, but never with her own, the last thing she had wanted in that moment, you finally had realized – after what must have felt like forever to her, was to be alone. She reminded you of a child that was expected to sleep alone for the first time, in a large room without much light and with a closed door. She had been alone night after night you had spend with her, not once had she woken up next to you, sometimes you doubt that she had fallen fully asleep too. Perhaps she had just pretended to be asleep, knowing that you had been waiting for the first chance to run.
She wouldn't voice what she wanted, that much had been clear, she was still too proud to do that, something that if you were honest with yourself you had admired in her, the pride and grace she despite everything handled herself and her life with. You had followed her unvoiced plea, you had taken off your jeans and had joined her between the sheets, the soft sigh escaping her lips followed by a warm smile had been indication enough, that you had done the right thing. You had expected a thank you, something that accompanied the grateful look in her eyes; you hadn't been prepared for what had come instead.
I'm sorry.
You had been puzzled at first, and that must have shown on your features, considering that she had started to explain herself. Apologizing about how she was ruining your usual nights together, how she hadn't meant for that to happen, how she had tried to pull through despite everything, how she had failed to do that. You had been too stunned to voice anything just than, you had realized just then, how much she had believed that your usual evening program was the only reason that lead you to visit her so frequently. That's after all, what you had believed yourself, you had known that there was more, you had sensed it whenever she smiled at you gratefully, with that warm twinkle in her eyes, but you had been too scared to admit yourself what exactly it had meant. At least, you had finally understood just how much she had craved your visits and feared to lose what little she had.
She would have – quite unlike of her – rambled on forever, apologizing for things she had no control of if you wouldn't have wrapped your arms around her slightly shaking frame to pull her closer, you had know it then and you knew it now, considering Regina had quieted down the moment she had felt your lips lightly press against her forehead. Willingly she had soaked up the affection you had shown her, had pulled herself impossible closer to you before she had hidden her face in the croak of your neck, had sighed with content before she had fallen asleep.
Unlike yourself, you had stayed, so much longer than necessary. She had been asleep for quite some time, before you eventually, almost reluctantly had decided to leave her side and the bed. Instead of leaving right away, like you usually would do you had made her tea, had seen to it that it'd still be hot once Regina was awake. A few days after that, once the former Mayor had been back on track, the words that had briefly ended the dysfunctional relationship you had with her, slipped past her lips. It made sense, that after that night and the evening following it, where you had come to just check on her, to bring her soup, had given her hope.
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You had pondered after that night, if there perhaps could be something else, if what you had could develop into something other than nightly-meetings that were bound to have only one outcome, but than she had slipped. Slipped might be the wrong word if you thought about it, she had allowed herself to openly feel and hope, only to have you freeze and run, only to have you reject her in the worst way possible. Because that's what you do best, if things become serious, you run. Not knowing commitment, it's simply something you just don't do. Come to think about it, it's a wonder that you stuck that long around for Henry, especially after your sometimes almost smothering parents came to realize who you are after the curse had been broken. You weren't one for openly showing affections, you never quite learned to do so, still you tried, for Henry and for Snow and Charming. Not for Regina, not for the one you would have deserved the most, given that your heart had known all along, what you hadn't allowed yourself to admit.
It had skipped a beat, the moment the then still Mayor had stepped out of her house and run towards her—your son. You had brushed it off as surprised, shock perhaps. After what Henry had told you about her, you had expected her rushing towards him. At first, you might hadn't believed that she truly loved him as much as she claimed to, but Regina had proven again and again just how much she loved her son. She deserved more, not just from him but also you. You finally acknowledge that, now that it was too late.
It had been too much for her – finally; like Snow and Charming would claim, it had all been too much for her and so she had taken on what you usually do best. She had run, not leaving you a chance to tell her how you felt, that you wanted her as much in your life as she had wanted you in hers. No, no that wasn't quite right. She had given you chance after chance to come to terms. She had opened the door for you each night, no matter how much you must have hurt her each time when you left. You had fucked up, and that big time. Regina could be everywhere by now, but still, still you had to try.
You leave her bedroom, her house, stalk towards your beetle hurriedly. Briefly you play with the idea to stop at your parent's, to inform them and Henry that the former Queen had left, and that you would follow her, try to find her, try to bring her back, but you thought better of it. They wouldn't agree with your plan, they'd try to stop you instead of help. So a short text message is all you give them before you drive towards the towns limits, hoping desperately that she hasn't been gone too for long, that you still can catch her somehow, somewhere not too far from here.
Snow and Charming called and messaged you countless times, you didn't answer or even bother to read any of their attempts to get you to turn around. You wouldn't, not without Regina, not if she wouldn't agree to come with you. It's one text message that eventually catches your attention, it's written differently, it isn't a demand for you to come back, it's something else entirely.
Please find my Mom and bring her back, or tell her at least that I'm sorry — Henry.
Confirmed in your porpoise you continue to speed along the interstate, not quite sure yet where to look first. It doesn't occur to you then, when you decide that Boston, your old home will be your first stop on your quest to find Regina, that perhaps it's entirely too late, that perhaps she won't believe your words, and wouldn't want to come back.
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I said Baby you are my Lover,
She said no Honey, I'm just a Maid.
I said Baby, I Love You.
She said no, you're just afraid