AN:: Woop. I don't know if this update is any less of a gruelling wait than the last ones, but we're in the home stretch.
If anyone is wondering, I want to be at an even 30 chapters by the time we're all done, but it's a tentative 30. I can tell you that from now on, I'm writing everything to completion before I publish anything. I've been so frustrated with life getting in the way and having to put things down and pick it up and having my ideas change over and over while I'm still writing, and YOU (the audience) deserve better. Also, being in the 'HOME stretch' ((I realize my dad jokes are shit, but I have some selfish ass humor, I'm not sorry)), that means that if you have any questions or want anything super specific, now is your chance to put it in a review or message me about it! I reply to ALL of my messages. You can also find me on Tumblr if you want to be anonymous (eponine-faye), and twitter (under a similar thingy), if you guys like that better.
Big, huge, massive THANK YOU to Sammichbatch again, because she saves my brain and helps me figure out what it is I'm missing, AND she's patient with all of my writer's block bullshit, and whining and complaining. She's great. If you can find her, go send her some love. I appreciate her a ton. She's known me since I was like 14, and she's always been great.
As always, you're loved.
Love is packaged in all different ways, and my love are in these words right here. I hope you feel it.
Go listen to some Billie Eilish.
Happy Hanukah.
"David?" Regina nearly dropped her hand cream. "David Nolan.. Who's married to my-"
"Yeah." Emma threw her hair up in a bun without looking back at her. "I went to talk to him after I talked to Granny.."
The Mayor stood in the doorway to the bathroom, massaging the lotion into her hands while she stared at Emma, waiting for her to be the one to say more - share what she knew if she was ready to.
They'd helped Henry to bed an hour earlier, then Regina went and got her cider out and sat with her girlfriend, tv on in the background, saying absolutely nothing. After all, what is there to say? What advice can you possibly give? Perspective has nothing on this, and Emma had to know that. There's no consolation for a lifetime undermined by a truth so extraordinary that it doesn't seem real.
All she could do was sit next to her, and wait.
Emma put an arm around her waist, then turned just a little so she could rest her chin on Regina's shoulder. "Don't you ever get tired of being everybody's rock?"
She Mayor jutted her chin out just enough to dot a kiss on Emma's nose. "No."
"You should have a mental breakdown soon… just so we can pay you back for all of this."
"I hope not." Regina laughed.
They sat there for a few long moments, in the kind of silence that isn't really silence. There was a breeze that had been pushing on for the better part of the evening, making the branches scratch against the window. If they listened closely enough, they could hear the heating turn on and off in waves, and even closer the hitch in Emma's breathing as her mind made the connection - the even more infinite number of possibilities she overlooked.
"I would have grown up here." The blonde whispered.
Regina nodded. She took one of Emma's hands and massaged the extra lotion into it.
"If she kept me, I would have been in this tiny town my whole life." Emma sighed. "I would have met you before I learned how to talk. Met your dad."
"I probably would have been your babysitter, at one point or another." Regina said.
"What kind of bullshit is it that my kid would find his way to the exact place I came from? I feel like I've been set up, ya know? This isn't normal." Her head made a calculated move down, so the bridge of her nose pressed into Regina's shoulder. "My brain keeps going back and forth between not believing it, because… it's just the worst type of stupid, and-"
"Don't you believe in some kind of fate?" She shrugged. "Not that any of this will ever make any sense. The fact that you and I are together - regardless of where you came from - the fact that the woman who adopted your son fell in love with you, and we have this life now.. That's just as incredible as the rest of it."
"Yeah, but that's incredible in the good way. The way that-" Emma cut herself off before she could spiral. She readjusted to sit behind Regina, and laid a cheek against her neck. "I don't know. I don't know anything and I'm tired."
Regina started pulling each one of Emma's fingers until they popped one by one, then dug her thumbs in and kneaded at her palms.
Emma stopped her and laced their fingers together. She would have cried if she hadn't exhausted that muscle through all of today, and the past few weeks. If it was even a muscle. The very back of her eyes hurt like she'd worked it too hard and it would be sore for weeks.
"I didn't think he was old enough at first… Katherine is your age, right?" Emma asked.
"She's only a year or so older than I am. David is just a little older, but they started dating… It wasn't long after she turned thirty. No one paid any mind to the age difference."
"Yeah. He's never seemed much older. He looks young… I guess so does Blanchard."
Regina nodded in response.
"They would have been young when I came around." Emma sighed. "He hugged me," She finally revealed, "told me all of this great shit. Exactly how I thought he would act. He's a good dude."
"You don't sound happy about that, though."
She rubbed her forehead against Regina's neck. "I just.." Emma sighed, "I had to tell him that I didn't need a dad anymore."
It played back in her mind, after he just held her, his arms wrapped all the way around her back so she felt protected and loved, like she always wished she would have been. She remembered wishing that she got this chance - to have a man like him love her from the time she was small. If they had the chance, to hell with Mary Margret, just them… Emma couldn't help but think that they could have made it work. David would have-
She didn't want to think about it, is what it boiled down to. All the pining after something that she couldn't turn back the clock and live was pointless. Emma had lived half of her life that way, and she knew better.
Regina broke through the tornado of thoughts that had taken over Emma's brain by just leaning back and kissing her cheek. "Maybe you do."
"Do, what?"
Regina laughed. "Maybe you still need him a little bit."
"What for?" Emma shrugged. "We're both adults, who met as adults. We have families and different lives that exist independently of one another- Jesus Christ, I sound like you."
"Aren't you lucky?" She grinned. But it softened as she turned and looked at the blonde. "I've just helped you better articulate your thoughts."
"A-are… can we play teacher then, because I'm cool with that." Emma wiggled her eyebrows, not with half of her usual playfulness, though.
Regina squeezed her leg. "Come on."
Emma flopped back on the bed. "I don't want to. All of this shit… it's just like life coming back to punish me right after things get good." She looked back up at Regina, folding her arms under her head. "I just… I feel like.." She huffed and frowned at herself. " I don't need David be a dad-dad to me, after I don't have use for one in my life anymore. We're kind of at the same point in our lives, right? I might even be a little further down the line than him as far as family and stuff goes. I don't need a human shield, I've already fought all of my own battles. He.. he has his fresh start with Beth, who is my sister. Fuck."
"You have a baby sister." Regina shook her head, more in the realization than in disbelief.
Emma reached down and took one of Regina's hands again and just stared at her - the way the light from the lamp on the bedside table bounced off of her clean cheeks, made the tips of her eyelashes look all golden.
All she got in return was one of those soft smiles that Emma leaned on.
"What do I do?" Emma asked.
Regina shook her head. "Tell me the rest."
"You know I hate it when you're right?"
She nodded, followed by one of the first genuine smiles of the day.
Emma held her breath, closed her eyes. "I'm afraid if I let David be in my life, as more than he has been.. Then there's no reason not to at least forgive Blanchard."
"Yeah?" She just kept looking at her like she already knew everything she had to say. "Would that be such a bad thing?"
"Yes. It absolutely is - it's the worst thing. Ya know there was a time I thought you knew everything?" Emma propped herself up on her elbows.
"Honey, you don't have to be nice to her. You don't ever have to go out of your way to see her, or any of that. At the same time, you're the Sheriff. You have to treat her with the same objective type of concern you'd address anyone else in town with." She got up and started to put her things away - lotion in the drawer, robe on the hook inside the bathroom door, slippers by her side of the bed.
But Emma didn't move, she just stared at the ceiling. "Yeah."
Regina climbed up and kissed the blondes temple, laid her head on one of her shoulders while their feet dangled off of opposite sides of the bed. "Besides, forgiveness is for you - it's not for her." Her fingers played with the baby hairs on Emma's neck. "It's so you don't have that hate resting on you. It doesn't mean you excuse her actions."
"You think I should?" Emma asked.
"I think you should consider it." Regina nodded. "You're too good of a person to not see her as just as human as you are."
"I don't care about her story, though. I don't want to sit down and have some conversation about how hard it was for her - I've been there, Regina. I know exactly how hard it is, and one way or another, she made it possible for her baby to end up on the side of a highway, having no idea what would happen to her. I don't care what her excuse is, and I don't want to hear it."
"Not even to know what happened?"
"No." Emma turned on her side and leaned her head on her knuckles. "I don't need that. And I don't want to give her the chance to try and win me over so she can paint herself as the victim."
"She said she was sorry."
"She should be." She let her eyes wander over Regina's nightgown, and the lace draped over her knees. "She should apologize for a lot more than letting me go - she didn't feed her newborn baby, she didn't leave me with someone who could care for me, she just threw me away. And on top of all of that, she came to tell me - drop this bomb on my life - not even two weeks after our little boy is-is… in this god-awful accident. We're in the middle of dealing with all of this loss, of Henry's best friend and trying to find our footing, take care of him the best we can. So knowing all of that, she decided now was the best time for her to make it about her, or whatever she was trying to do. Maybe just trying to win me back or something… but she threw me into a tailspin, ya know? She just threw another knife in the air with everything else we're trying to balance right now? Honestly? I would have never done that to Henry if I were in her position."
Regina just nodded. It was getting easier and easier to see it from Emma's point of view.
She took a few seconds, breathing deeper than she had maybe all day, then sat up, crossed her legs and looked at the woman in front of her. "I don't know how to forgive her."
Regina put her hand on Emma's knee. "I think this is above my pay grade."
"What?"
"I don't think I'm the best person to give you advice here. I'm biased toward you, to the boys, no matter what." She squinted, wanting to say it delicately. "Maybe you should try and get more.. Professional help?"
"Like Archie?" Emma raised an eyebrow.
"No." Regina shook her head and sat up again. "Someone who hasn't grown up here, right next to all of the parties involved."
Emma rubbed her face. "Jesus."
"You don't have to. Just something to think about."
"No, I think you're right." Her hands fell, and Regina scooped one of them up immediately rubbing her nose against the scars on Emma's knuckles. "It's just a lot."
"Well, then let's stop. Let's just put it out of sight and out of mind until you're ready to deal with anything else." Regina sat up and moved herself closer to Emma, kissed her cheek, left her face close to hers.
Neither one of them said anything for a while.
Emma closed her eyes and decided to lose all of her focus for the moment. The way Regina's nose rubbed a little line back and forth on her cheek made everything go perfectly blurry for the moment. Behind her eyelids, it was just warm - it was calm and safe, and she let herself fall into it. The dizziness took over, so her head lolled forward, pressing her face into Regina's neck, and more on instinct than desire, she placed a little kiss under her jaw.
When Regina sighed, though, she was all present, in the moment.
Emma was the one to pull back, gently, like she was looking for something….
...and she found it.
Regina just smiled - not a giant grin - it was just pulling at her lips from her cheeks. In the middle of the shit storm, with worse in their backyard and awful knocking on the front door, Emma realized in that moment that she knew exactly what love was. Right in front of her, showing her instead of telling. Love meant wanting to spend even the worst of moments right next to her.
"What are you th-"
Emma didn't let her finish, leaning forward just the tiniest bit to kiss away the rest of the words. The rest of the useless talking could wait. It didn't take very long for Emma to put her realization into practice, showing instead of telling. She wrapped her arms around Regina and held her close, looked at her with just as much appreciation as she felt.
They left the lamp on as clothes came off, and still, she ran her hands over Regina's skin like a treasure, some rare gem no one had ever actually laid their eyes on. She whispered how beautiful she was until Regina's eyes watered just the tiniest bit and she had to laugh at herself.
"You are.." Emma nodded, kissed her wrist. "You're perfect."
"You are." Regina gave it right back, dabbing at her eyes with her fingertips.
And for the first time since the accident, the weight didn't feel so heavy on either of their shoulders.
Henry decided he would go to his prosthetic fitting alone. Regina dropped him off on her lunch break and waited in the parking lot for all of the forty minutes he was out of sight.
He came back out with different crutches, ones that had a place for his hands to rest and circles a bit higher up to support his wrists.
Regina unlocked the door for him and raised her eyebrows.
Henry maneuvered himself in, clipped his seat belt and took a breath. "I can't get anything for at least another five-ish months. Everything has to heal, and I have to get checked out a bunch more times before they can give me one." He nodded, not looking at her.
It was after the baseball season started back up. He wouldn't be able to practice with his new leg in time to try out for the team.
"Even then I have to go to a bunch of physical therapy appointments to learn how to use it."
"Yeah." Regina sat in her seat, watching him, waiting to react. "That… falls in line with most of what we researched before, though."
Henry shrugged.
"It's still disappointing."
"Yeah." He pushed himself more upright and looked at his mother, right in the eye. "I… Can you drive me over to the tw-" His mouth hardened, but he recovered quickly. "Can I go to the Tillman's?"
"What?"
"I want to go over there." He gave one very sure nod.
Regina raised her eyebrows, but just turned the key and checked her mirrors. "Did you call?"
"No."
"...Should you?"
He looked at his hands for a minute as Regina started driving.
It took him a few moments before he spoke quietly. "I need to start collecting the happy moments again." He repeated Emma's words like they were his own - starting to believe them. "And I need to apologize for being like this before I can make good moments again."
"Henry, you're grieving - you don't need to-"
"I haven't called or said anything to them since the funeral." He looked at her with a frown. "That's not me. I don't get to treat people like that because I'm going through stuff. They're going through it too, and I'm going to be there to help."
There were a few beats where Regina was shocked into silence - witnessing her little boy become a man in a snapshot right in front of her. In the face of pain and insurmountable change, he stood responsible, and brave.
She put a hand over his, gulping at the knot accumulating in her throat. "I'm proud of you, honey."
He didn't pull his hand away until they pulled up at the end of the driveway.
The garage door was open, which meant Mr. Tillman was under a car in there or tinkering with something or other.
Henry turned to Regina and hugged her like he needed it.
She kissed his head before he pulled away with a stern smile that made him look even more like a man. "Will you call me when you're ready to come home."
He nodded.
"Okay." She gave a little wave.
"Love you, mom." He said as he got his crutches under him just outside.
Her grin was so bright, it hurt her cheeks just a little. "I love you, too."
He closed the door and gave a little lopsided smile as she drove off. It didn't fade until he turned to face the house.
It was still cold - he should have had a better jacket, or a scarf at the very least, but he didn't plan this.
The sound of his crutches against the asphalt was still a little foreign to his ears as it alternated with the sound of his shoe, like some awkward horse who didn't know how to trot the right way. It wasn't enough to stop him, but it was better to focus on that than trying to figure out what he was going to say. Not that he had much time anyway.
Ava's eye was still a little green and yellow, the last of her bruises starting to fade, though she would probably always have the scars on her cheek now. Henry still thought she was pretty. He smiled when she turned toward him, a bit of grease smeared across her nose.
"Hey." She said weakly.
Michael looked at him next, surprise coloring his face.
They sat there next to the car the twins had been helping their dad restore for most of the time Henry knew them. The paint was chipped everywhere worth looking, the seats were an odd, worn, brown color instead of their original black leather that might have been there fifty some-odd years earlier. But after some long, hard hours of work, it ran, and sounded great.
"Can I help?" Henry asked. He couldn't help his face getting red and hot as he blinked down tears as soon as he felt them.
Michael smiled at him with the same sort of pained expression. "Yeah, you can."
Ava pulled the spare stool over for him. "We're replacing the headlights." She explained quietly.
Michael went into narrating what he was doing, showing them what to do before handing over the materials for them to try by themselves, only correcting when necessary.
Henry had only been trying his hand at it for a minute before Ava started laughing, tears bubbling up in her eyes.
Both of them stared at her with wide eyes.
"Henry…" She giggled. "You're awful at this."
Henry grinned. "You show me, then."
It's not what she expected, but it should have been.
Regina stood on the other side of Mary Margaret's door, wearing that easy smile that said she had authority and compassion, and you would never know which one she favored more. The school teacher opened the door and led the woman over to her couch, asked if she wanted tea or coffee, and when she refused politely, there was only the option to sit and listen left.
The old, wing back chair creaked as she set herself down. She didn't have to ask Regina why she was there. She started all on her own.
"Emma wanted to come to talk to you, but after some thought, she asked if I would instead. I'm… It would seem like I'm not as close to all of the emotion tied to the situation."
Mary Margaret nodded.
"She asked me to give this to you, though." Regina handed over a letter.
"What does it say?" Her hands clasped together harder instead of reaching for the envelope.
Regina shook her head. "I haven't read it."
"Nothing good." She answered her own question.
The Mayor could only offer a sad smile.
It took a few moments for her to gulp down the tears she felt coming. In her mind, she'd thought of most of the things that could happen from that point on, but she hoped it would be some sort of tearful, lifetime moment with her daughter that could heal all the wounds she'd inflicted. Hope didn't mean she believed it would happen, but it's what she wanted more than anything.
Regina set the letter on the coffee table and leaned forward just a bit. "I'm here to smooth things over without a big confrontation. Emma doesn't want to fight, or make you feel afraid any time you see us in town - she doesn't want to ask you to leave, she just wants peace." She hesitated. "That would mean a respectful distance between the both of you for the foreseeable future, and discretion. This isn't something she wants to be common knowledge, and she doesn't want it to disrupt our lives any more than it already has."
"So she.. She's angry I said anything at all?" She frowned toward the kitchen. She didn't want to look at Regina's face - how she rode the line between cold and careful so easily.
The sigh was more compassionate than Mary Margaret was expecting. "The timing wasn't ideal."
"How long do you think she'll be upset?"
Regina smiled softly. "Quite a while."
Her shoulders dropped the rest of the way as the last little bit of hope slipped away. Before she could let herself crumble entirely, cry and run the bath with black and white movies swallowing the silence for days so she wouldn't have to sit with her thoughts, the school teacher got up and walked to the old, wooden desk in the corner of her living room. The locked drawer at the bottom had a habit of sticking, so she had to lift and shake it from side to side after she turned the key to open it.
Inside was nothing but a large cigar box, crudely held closed with a few colorful rubber bands, and she handed it to Regina.
The woman just looked at her, puzzled.
"One day, Henry came in to class and told me that he didn't have his homework finished because of Emma's birthday. I suspected, not as seriously, before that, but he said it, and I remember so clearly wondering if I could be wrong because her birthday was a day late." She shook her head. "I gave birth on the first and Henry said.. yesterday… so it was wrong, so I had to be wrong. But I looked at her and I just knew."
Regina was frowning, but she didn't say anything.
"I never had a doctors appointment - not even just for myself - the whole time I was pregnant. My father sent me to my aunt and uncle's house in Clinton. This huge, empty house. They just fed me… kept me in the house, and let the tutor my father hired in a few times a week." She looked at Regina with all the hate she felt for herself. "I had only just turned sixteen when I had her. And, I did - I thought about running away with her. I could have gotten a job, I was smart enough. I could have struggled and stayed with her. I don't think anyone would have come looking if I got away, but… she just came. One day I was knitting a hat, and the next she was just there. I was terrified. I looked at her and I didn't know what to do. She was screaming and I just handed her to my uncle."
"Ms. Blanch-"
"I've never told anyone, Regina, just let me say it." Mary Margaret spat as a tear dropped from her cheek. But she just dabbed her cheek with her sleeve and kept on. "The doctor got there after I had already given birth, and he… he just said I would be fine, and he took her. I screamed and told him to give her back.
"My aunt was the one to let me hold her, just for a minute, and I wrapped this blanket around her - it was one that I made myself - and I told them that she was mine." She sniffled. "It was like this horrible dream. They all stared at me as I tried to calm her down, this tiny thing, but she just kept crying and I didn't know how to hold her. So my uncle said that I could let her go now, or they would give me fifty dollars and ask me to leave."
Regina sat staring, and Mary Margaret folded her arms. "I told them I just wanted to make sure she was safe. And they let me get dressed, and I got in the car with that man. My uncle held Emma in the front seat, until we got to the end of this road, there was just woods on both sides of the car, and this woman got out of another car." She covered her mouth as a sob escaped her mouth, then another. She didn't cry for too long, but she was sure it would be painful to watch. She gathered herself. "I never got to say goodbye. My uncle gave her to the woman while I was still in the car and we drove away."
When she had the courage to look back at Regina, she knew the woman had no reason to believe her. All of this could be an awful way to gain some redemption that she didn't deserve. So she just pointed at the box. "I've saved all of her rent money from then on. I couldn't take it after… I can't keep it." She shook her head.
Regina looked down, open mouthed and at a loss. "I don't know if she'll want to accept this."
"Then use it for Henry's college, then. I don-"
"The boys already have college funds." She handed the box back. "I'll tell her you have it and she can make the decision for herself."
It took a few long moments for anything to happen.
Mary Margaret took the cigar box back and sat down, running her fingers along the edges so she could keep her head down. "Will you tell her I'm sorry?"
A few more seconds passed, punctuated by the ticking of the clock. Regina was better than lying for the sake of feelings, and Mary Margaret should have known better.
"No." She frowned, then stood. "I'll only tell her any of this if she asks, but I don't think she will, Ms. Blanchard."
Regina had the courage to look right at her, even as the older woman only hung her head, keeping her mouth in a straight line.
"I think Emma is a grown woman who's had to cope with everything she remembers about her life, and everything that's happening now. I don't believe it's my place or yours to rewrite any of that for her. Even if you're not the only person to blame, you were an active part of it. Whatever you did or didn't do specifically, it made her reality what it is today, both the good and the bad. Unfortunately, the first part of her life - the part she believes you're mostly responsible for - is the part that's hardest to forgive. If and when she ever gets to that place is up to her."
Her hand went to Mary Margaret's elbow.
"She's happy, now." Regina nodded, catching her eye. "If it makes any difference at all, she told Henry and I last week that she's alright with everything that happened in her life, if it led her to where she is."
The last of her tears swam in her eyes.
Even as she walked Regina to the door and exchanged uncomfortable niceties, Mary Margaret was able to keep herself in one piece.
It was only starting to get dark outside, but she put the cigar box back in it's home, and went to bed.
