Street rats
I'm trying to save your life
"Are you okay?" She asked and her movements were frantic as she moved pot after pot, searching for a pinch of dust, a tail of something else, names and mixes swirling inside her head; her mouth dry as she heard Emma's words, her voice wavering slightly, weak, soft. The air inside her vault didn't seem chilly anymore but stiflingly hot and as she put the final touches to the potion -careful to stir it as many times as it should be, she looked at Emma, at the way her eyelashes casted shadows on her cheeks, on the way her face seemed pasty and white, on the way her digits clutch her arms.
Her heart seemed to be breaking her chest in two, pulling her ribs apart and Regina wondered as she handed the potion over, parroting the idea she had come across after frantic searching on book after book, her fingers gliding over the pages, eyes reading forgotten incantations with the facility a life reading them provided, wondered about Emma, about how she couldn't die, about how she couldn't end up dead. She wondered of that night, the night where she had splitted herself, on the moment Emma had taken a step closer, had called for her name and swallowed, feeling dirt-like remorse sliding down her throat, cold and unpleasant.
It's not important whether she ended up dead or not, she said to herself, repeating it as mechanical as possible, it's not important because, in a way, she wondered if that's not what the Queen's actual plan was; to end up the mess she herself had created. She wondered and thought and her fingers were numb as she handed over the potion, almost flinching away when Emma picked the vial and looked at it, her lips thin and white, her golden hair seeming darker under the vault's cold, cold light. Emma gulped down the liquid without no hesitation, without any fear, no like the time she had needed to pierce her fingertip back when they had been looking for Henry and there's something there, something on the woman's green eyes that made her shudder as the dust in the vault seemed to grow thicker around her, a cloud that covered her vision in greys hues and made her want to scream, the back of her neck tight as well as her back, her lips raw from the many times she had already bit down on them.
"I'm sorry" She wanted to say, to whisper against the lapels of Emma's jacket. "I'm sorry for having been the one that brought her back."
She wanted to say it because there had been words unsaid on the minuscule apartment, the words she still was able to heard from the many times she had heard them; about her guilt, about what she had done and there were too many and just too much weight on the way Emma raised her hands, a millimeter away from touching her and yet far too far. She wanted to say it not to assuage her guilt but because there needed to be something there, something that could stop Emma's fate.
"I'm sorry." She heard, and for a second everything halted, her mouth parting, not understanding the self-deprecating smile Emma directed at her, the vial already empty, the potion swirling inside of the blonde in blue-like lines she could feel as raw power in some hidden part of her senses. "I'm sorry for not telling you first."
The voice sounded soft and little, as if telling something sacred and Regina wanted to close her eyes and hug the woman in front of her, the woman that felt about to shatter from her will to keep going and she pondered about why, why she didn't let herself, why she felt cold and so numb her fingers seemed to shake just as Emma's seemed to be doing too, a tremble so minute and yet so meaningful she found herself wanting to scream.
"You needed time." She finally answered, her chest hurting, her lungs aching, the pots in front of her reflecting the light in purples and blues and she found herself stretching her hand just to be able to touch the cold crystal surface of one of them, the touch keeping her awake, the gravel behind her feet protesting as she turned once again towards the blonde. "I understand."
And she indeed did, she understood Emma's need to not tell everyone, to keep it away, to try to fight it alone, she understood it in the same way she had feared for not being able to find the author, for being forever stuck on her own prewritten story. Her hands felt clammy as she closed them, shuddering when Emma looked at her, grey still tinting her vision.
"Thank you." She heard and she nodded, mentally countingthe seconds before the potion would take effect. The blonde's pupils were starting to blown up, reacting to the ingredients and she focused on that, finding it reassuring the way she could actually predict such response.
"Regina?" She heard, and for a moment she forgot how to breath, her body still as Emma took a step closer, her aura colliding against her own, her shadow mingling with hers at the floor. "I will find a way to fight the Queen. You aren't alone either."
The words made her stumble, the promise she felt on the way Emma nodded once, then twice, soft angles and still harsh, sharp pupils making her swallow and blink, her eyelashes almost fluttering close. She wasn't afraid, she decided, she just needed to focus on Emma, not in the mistake she had made, the mistake she committed by separating herself…
"I…"
"You can trust me, Regina." And there it was, the slight intonation of the "I", the way it seemed to roll off Emma's tongue. The brunette found herself nodding, a tight fist sizing her heart, unable to think on something else but Emma's profile, completely dumbstruck. "We will find a way… I will find it. I know," Emma added, a tired smile on her face and still close, way too close, her hands radiating warmth, her chest almost brushing, almost touching "that I'm not very good at magic but I will try. She may be the Queen but you are still you and we… "
"we cannot lose you."
And Regina knew it was the truth because she would and she intended to do the same. Still, the idea of finally being able to let it go broke her in two.
"You call her the Queen…" She realized, her hands starting to play, to fidget, her eyes steady as she focused on Emma's suddenly confused-looking face.
"What I would call her? I thought you preferred to distinguish between her and yourself."
And she indeed wanted that but it was the lack of adjective what made Regina blink and nod, raising her chin and grasping the blonde's forearm, noticing how Emma seemed nervous in that split second she needed to regroup herself, tongue peeking between open lips and glinting teeth. "I trust you." She replied and the grey dots disappeared, a nod and one final look passing between them before Emma's back shuddered. The potion was working and with it the world started again.