It was hard to tell if her vehicle had suffered any damage in the scrimmage, the rust marks and scrapes having overtaken the majority of the body over the years. At the very least, the bug had not received any internal damage as it puttered gently through the lanes. Emma concentrated only on driving, maintaining the speed limit, using her turn signals, and giving each stop sign its full attention.
Out of the corner of her eye she caught Regina shiver. The mayor had been without her coat throughout the ordeal, which had been fine when everything was literally on fire and their blood was saturated with adrenaline. Other than perhaps being cold, the other woman looked none too worse for the wear. Her white blouse slightly more rumpled than usual and stripes of soot dashed randomly on her slacks. Her expression grim with weighted thoughts of which the blonde ardently avoided. Emma didn't say anything and neither did Regina.
The silence still reigned as she parked in front of the grand house, Emma got out with Regina and they solemnly walked like a pair of shuffling sleepwalkers. The sheriff realized she limped slightly, her left knee worse than her right, but both stung and throbbed from harshly meeting the pavement in her clumsy dive for safety. They passed through the threshold of the home, their roughened condition going unnoticed by the sturdy frame. The fine items that adorned the foyer peered stoically at the two women, everything looking rightfully in its place. The composed setting starkly contrasted the chaos that lay outside its doors; the turmoil on the verge of spilling over in Emma.
Regina wandered to the short flight of stairs as Emma fell heavily against the closed door. Regina whipped around to her at the surprisingly loud thud her body made against the wood. She swallowed hard. And then again, trying to pushdown the thick, acidic panic that filled her throat. It pressed on her airways, the passages constricting agonizingly. "I can't- can't- breath."
Her knees gave out as she sunk to the floor. Regina's face creased with worry made a little start toward her. Emma's hand flew out, a pale desperate gesture as she managed to rasp, "Don't. Just don't."
She couldn't stand the thought of being touched right now. Thankfully, her words seemed to throw up an invisible force field, like the one Regina had fabricated, that kept her at a distance. She shifted against it, wringing her hands uselessly, but stayed respectfully away as Emma gasped. The vessels of her lungs collapsing like her legs, not allowing her to get the oxygen her brained screamed for.
Regina ascended out of view, which only made her choke harder. But she returned in a moment, again stopping outside an imaginary bubble and extending her hand to the grounded woman. Emma's vision blurred and then a wet washcloth swam into focus. She fumbled for the rag, immediately pressing the cool, damp fabric to her hot cheeks, then burying her whole face into it. She could hear Regina saying, "You're hyperventilating. Put your head between your knees."
She did and slowly but surely the muscles in her neck relaxed. Her sharp staccato breathes calmed to irate puffs and then evened out to gentle pulls of air. The fog that obscured any tangible thought dissipated. Finally Emma could lift her head and let the now warm rag fall from her face. The white terry cloth now smeared with black, so she wiped her face with the other side to hopefully clean off any stubborn grime leftover. When her eyes found Regina again, the woman sat on her knees a few feet away as if waiting patiently to answer her questions.
She sniffled. "So there was a dragon, a fucking dragon. I'm not experiencing some psychological break."
"No psychological breaks. There really was a dragon." Regina confirmed like she was just agreeing about the weather.
"Jesus…" Emma swore and forced out the next part. "And Mary Margret… David. They are my p- parents."
"I'm sorry but yes. Yes, they are your parents."
"It's all too… unbelievable Regina." Emma expelled hopelessly. She tried to accept the fact that she had found her parents; that Mary Margret and David were her parents. But it was like knowing about the moon. She could see it in the night sky, know about the different phases and yet she couldn't comprehend how it's gravity would feel. She would never have the chance to be suspended in the air and turn upward to be lulled by the twinkling raven-colored universe just as she would never know how it felt to be held by her mother, to look up and see her shining eyes and Milky Way cowlick as she hummed a melodic tune.
"I know. Give yourself sometime to process." Regina's voice was a soothing balm on her agitated thoughts, pragmatic and with a touch of kindness. Emma took a deep breath and clambered back to her feet.
"You're okay?" Regina asked.
"I'm fine. Thank you." Emma handed the soiled rag to Regina, who seemed to take precaution not to touch her as she took it. She needed to move forward before the panic dragged her down again. She had more matters to address. " Everyone had a lot of question. They were asking about the smoke. Do you know anything about it?"
Regina daintily folded the cloth, placing it on the marble-topped end table like it didn't have Emma's dirt and sweat on it. With a shrug she said. "I don't have any idea of how it was conjured but I have an idea who is behind it."
Emma prompted her with raised eyebrows and Regina went on, "Mr. Gold. Known as Rumplestilskin where we are from. He wanted the curse broken. I don't know why but he has plans and knowing him its nothing good."
"Rumplestilskin. Right. The little elf who spins straw into gold."
"He isn't an elf. He's dangerous."
"Okay." She held up her hands defensively. "How about why we didn't all return to the… magical kingdom thingy?"
"I don't know for sure. It could be that is how Gold designed the curse. There was no magic to take us back when the curse broke. If Gold could bring magic to Storybrooke this whole time I'm sure he would have done it if he weren't waiting for something."
Emma nodded thoughtfully, "Sounds like I need to pay him a visit."
Regina warned. "Be careful. And never make a deal with him."
"Why not? You did apparently."
"I understood the repercussions."
"Apparently not. Unless this is how you envisioned it all playing out." Emma said peevishly. The brunette opened her mouth, her eyes flaring as she prepared for a battle. Then the spark fizzled out and her mouth clicked shut.
When she started speaking, she sounded calm, verging on cautious. "Do you want to talk about it?"
It. The kiss and all that it implied. No, she wasn't ready to talk about it. "I should go. They will be wondering where I am."
"Of course. Don't want them to think I've turned you into a toad."
Emma stared blankly at her, considering the feasibility of that statement.
"A bad joke." Regina let her off the hook.
She exhaled. "Right, yeah. I'll be back later and we can talk."
Not waiting for a response, Emma made a hasty exit. She sucked in the fresh air, taking in the cold that was turning bitter, as the day had started its descent into the winter quick night. A cool blue tone painted over the quiet neighborhood that had the strange appearance of being abandoned as the first orange glow of the inside lamps had yet to make an appearance.
She looked at her phone and read a text from Henry.
Meeting at Granny's. Hurry up!
Emma fought the urge to rush into the shelter of Regina's house, to fall back on the floor crying and this time letting Regina brush cool fingertips across her forehead.
She pushed forward with all her might.
/
"I'll be here." Regina said quietly to the vacant space that Emma had just occupied. Light was dwindling in the hall, winter suddenly taking away the day as it tended to do. It felt like so much time and yet also so little time had passed since she had first kissed Emma. That kiss seemed to become the moment by which she clocked her life. When she woke up this morning, it was eight hours until she kissed Emma and now it was two since. Now Regina wondered after the younger woman if she would have the chance to do it again.
"Well that was dramatic." The baritone voice came unseen from the dining room. Regina spun on her heel, magic jumping to her fingers, and the fine hairs on the back of her neck prickling to attention. Then Jefferson rolled into view. He leaned against the doorframe in a smartly tailored suit and scarf flourished around his neck apparently unaware of the dramatization of his own entrance.
Her magic settled, curling back up inside her like an annoyed cat disturbed from its nap. With her fear vanished, the thin scar on her upper lip deepened with her annoyance at his intrusion. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to collect what you promised me." He declared and advanced so he stood at the top of the stairs looking down on her.
"What are you talking about Jefferson?" She asked with no patience. "The curse is broken. Shouldn't you be running into your daughters arms by now?"
"No, that's isn't what we agreed on." Madness tinted his voice. "I wanted a fresh start. I want it to be just the two of us. No double lives."
"I didn't get my part of the bargain. As far as I'm concerned our deal is null and void."
Jefferson cried out indignantly. "No! No, you said-"
"I said-" Regina emphasized, "I would give you a new start after the Savior ate the apple. Well she didn't eat the apple."
"That's not my fault." He whined.
She rolled her eyes. "And it's not my fault you are awful at making deals."
"I did what you asked and you are going to screw me all over again." He said with disbelief.
"Look at it however you want Jefferson. The fact is I'm done with you."
"But I'm- I'm not done with you."
"And what are you going to do?" Regina stalked up the stairs until she was just on the stair below him. "Kill me? Well get in line."
"Don't think I won't." He leaned down into her space with bared teeth.
"And what would your Grace think?" Regina proposed. "She remembers who you are now. Do you think she will want a father who is a murderer?"
His face reddened to nearly an unripe mulberry with the anger her kept contained inside. He hissed viciously, "And you think your son will want the Evil Queen for his mother?"
The blow was a direct hit, pulling the air and fight from her lungs. The queen shoved passed Jefferson with a furious scowl that didn't betray her feeling of cracks splintering over her chest. Stopping at the grand staircase with hands on her hips as she recovered from his statement. "Henry knows he will always have a home here."
"But you don't know if he is ever coming home." He reminded cruelly.
Regina caressed the soft, polished mahogany of the banister, until she found a knick in the wood from when Henry shot a hockey puck in the house when he was five, a solid reminder that he had been there. Her voice was grave with resignation. "Just go Jefferson. There isn't anything I can do to help you."
"Regina. Regina! You can't do this to me! Not again!" But she ignored his tantrum as he yelled at her back. Distantly in her mind, she heard Jefferson's shouting fading and the front door slam with a force that rattled the house like an accented mark on a snare drum. Then silence pervaded like all noise had been sucked out of the air.
Slowly she began to climb, leaning heavily on the railing to make it the next step. Staring at the white carpet beneath the point toe of her shoe, she thought there would be no shoes left on the stairs tonight; because Henry wasn't coming home tonight. He would be with Snow White and Prince Charming and the whole merry band of misfits celebrating their triumphant victory over the Evil Queen. Her son, finally vindicated after months of being told his beliefs were childish delusions, had been exuberant at the curse being dispelled. He bound around resembling a chocolate Labrador, as he explored the new world and possibilities it afforded like dragons and dwarves and magic. He identified each townsperson with their fairy tale counterpart, probably having deduced it long ago. He truly was a brilliant boy. For all her son's brilliance however, he was still so young and his vision shortsighted.
She wondered if this would be her new normal, trapped in her lavish home, making the quiet trek to the upstairs by herself. Instead of heading to the right toward her own bedroom, Regina veered left down the hall. Henry's consideration only extended as far as bringing back the happy endings. There had been no thought given to what would happen to his mother and the fall out that waited for her.
She's still my mom. His words were the threads of hope she clung to as she entered Henry's room. At the very least, he didn't want her dead, which flimsy as it may be sufficed for now. Her eyes cataloged the contents of his room all typical boy blue and modern superheroes dominated the space. He perceived Emma like that, like she was a superhero clad in red leather gamely vanquishing the villain with her powers of truth and justice. That ideal of the Savior hardly brushed reality of Emma Swan. Thus far, heroics seemed to run through her veins as if inherited from her father and mother, but it had taken its toll on the blonde.
The string wrapped around her heart tugged at a different image of Emma; the women who cringed at her mother's voice, who angered at the presumption of others trying to step on her territory of sheriff, and who collapsed with a panic attack in her foyer. Regina thought about how Emma had chosen her, maybe subconsciously, to witness the moment of searing emotion, what the blonde may consider weakness. The mayor held to that thought with the other of Henry as she lay down atop of the comforter on her son's bed. She pressed her face into his pillow, allowing for her despair to distort her features in a mask of pain hidden in the fabric for only a moment.
Relaxing her muscles, her expression defaulted to that of the blank, regal mask of the queen. Her eyes stared unseeingly at the spindly branches against the gray cast sky out the window, her mood descending further with the oncoming night.
/
Jefferson would not tolerate another betrayal from Regina. She would not cast him off this time without any retribution for her manipulations. The man fumed, nearly salivating with anger as he slunk through the nearly empty halls of Storybrooke Memorial Hospital. The medical facility had always been sparsely occupied but since the curse broke, it was more abandoned than usual. Some patients had been discharged and some of the staff left their posts in the general confusion that had ensued, letting him make his journey unhindered.
Regina was right in one aspect. He wouldn't lift a finger towards her but at least he could possibly set in motion the mechanisms that could provide vengeance. Turning off the main brightly lit hall, he found the dingy stairway and started his plunge down into the mental ward. At the front desk, a strict looking nurse still kept watch. She stood at his abrupt appearance, hand coming to rest flat against her sternum as if offended by him. He asked shortly, "You know the curse is broken?"
She nodded curtly.
"Then get out of here." She remained rooted to her spot, starting at him frankly.
"Get out of here! Go!" Jefferson snarled like a rabid dog and the woman finally hurried off with a disgruntled expression. He collected himself as he grabbed the ring of keys from the desk and headed back to the cell like rooms. First he opened the door the 'S. Glass' scrawled on the placard outside of the room. The man inside, tired and worn, scurried passed him without a glance or a word.
The second door he opened a broad, tall man with an impressive beard burst out from his prison. He looked around wildly, like checking for danger, then turned to Jefferson. "Thank you. I'm in your debt."
"Just make sure people know what Regina has done." He glowered and the man dipped his head in recognition before he ran off.
The last door he slipped a key into contained a beautiful young woman. She sat on a cot like she had been waiting for him. He stepped into the room. "Do you know who you are?"
"Yes." She whispered hoarsely.
"And you know it was Regina who locked you up?"
"Yes." She said again.
His brow darkened. "Then go find Rumplestiltskin."