note: did a little poll on tumblr and most people have shorter chapters than I do. I'm going to try for 2-3 shorter chapters a week because it works better with the way I've been editing. (some will be longer) but you'll get updates more quickly!
After an entire morning of tromping through the underbrush, which they often had to hack through, Emma stopped with relief when Regina suggested lunch. She could have hugged her, and just about did when Regina said there was root beer.
"What, no kale salad?" Emma grinned, watching Regina open the neat tupperware containers of their lunch that she'd magiced in from the refrigerator at home.
They were several hours into their hunt for the beetles' nest and had so far turned up nothing despite some initial signs of the bugs' passage. Those signs vanished in the woods though, and now their careful canvas was feeling increasingly fruitless. Neither woman had mentioned quitting though and it was only when Emma's stomach started growling that Regina shook her head and suggested they stop and eat, something soft and fond in her eyes.
"It doesn't travel well," Regina answered mildly, though the quirk of her lips told Emma she was remembering the same day. She sat carefully on the damp log they were using as a bench, handing Emma a neatly wrapped bundle. "This sandwich has cheese in it so hopefully you'll find that acceptable, even if it isn't grilled." Sure enough there was cheese, in a sandwich on nice bread that had little seeds in it and was probably the kind of thing that came unsliced with an 'artisan' sticker on it and would have cost a stupid amount if Emma had had to buy it, except of course, this was Regina so the sandwich was homemade and something about that warmed that place in Emma's heart that she increasingly accepted as belonging wholly to Regina.
This wasn't the time for introspection though so Emma sniffed, pretending to be offended as hhe shifted, resting her back against a tree behind her. The quiet of the forest hung heavily around them, and with the clouds thick overhead even the birds were lazy. "I can eat other things," she said, opening the paper around her sandwich. She sniffed it, and grinned at Regina. "In fact, I eat whatever you put in front of me."
"That's not a compliment," Regina muttered. "If you're comparing this sandwich to the stuff you and your father eat in the sheriff's station, or what Henry has charitably described as 'cooking'..." her voice had a little of the old Madame Mayor scorn, but her smile suggested that she didn't mean any of it. It was both surprising and not that their relationship seemed to have fundamentally shifted, and yet their banter remained. The last few years, the last few days had simply added layers of meaning that only they could hear. It meant a sandwich would never be just a sandwich and Regina insulting Emma's cooking would never truly be an insult. Especially not after...
"Hey, I can cook," Emma insisted. "You made sure of that." Her voice softened on the last words, trying to convey the gratitude she would always feel for those memories and that year in New York. Regina had given her so much more than just a life with Henry, she'd given Emma the foundation she needed to keep it. It hadn't been just 'happiness' and a decent bank account, she'd given Emma with so many little things most people would never think of as important, but to Emma, to someone who had never had anyone care if she learned those things, knowing the right way to get different kinds of stains out of a school uniform and the best way to make lasagne had been…Regina hadn't just paid the price of the curse, she'd given Emma a thousand precious gifts in the form of memories, big and small, of their son and the knowledge of how to be a good mother to him, knowledge that Emma knew now Regina had earned, struggled for, paid for in tears and sleepless night and terror that she was doing it all wrong and she'd given all of that to Emma. Even now, and perhaps always, it made Emma feel small, feel humbled, made her wonder how incredibly dumb she'd been to want to leave the woman who'd given so much of herself behind and go back to New York.
Even as she thought it though, Emma knew it wasn't stupidity. It was fear.
She was still ashamed of it.
She wondered how long she'd have gone on being afraid if it hadn't been for Maleficent's impulsive behavior?
She wondered if it even mattered.
"Emma?" Her name called gently made her look up. Regina's face held gentle concern and Emma had her answer. "Where did you go?" Regina asked gently.
And that was a discussion for another time, when there weren't magic bugs trying to eat their way through town and a sick dragon on her couch and her son's older sister out there in the world, missing. So Emma just shook her head, forcing herself to return to the here and now.
Reaching for that earlier familiarity Emma scowled. "Hey, I will have you know my dad's been making a lot of progress cooking, especially with mom so distracted with the little guy." Regina's answer was one perfect eyebrow lifting in an expression of clear disbelief and Emma almost snorted. For a moment, both of them forgot that things with Emma's parents were a mess and it was just a conversation over lunch that could have been in Regina's office, not on a devouring beetle hunt. For a moment it was just the two of them, bantering back and forth.
It only lasted for a moment.
Carefully placing her sandwich back in its container, Regina touched Emma's shoulder carefully. "You don't have to be mad at them on my account. They're still your parents."
Emma frowned at the dirt and bright green moss beneath her feet. She turned her toe, wishing she could grind her anger into the dirt with it. "I'm not." She said quickly, because she wasn't. She was furious on Regina's behalf but there was more, and the more had been goading her, twisting like a thorn in her clothes she couldn't find but pricked with each breath she took. "It would be easier if I was just pissed at them because of what they did to you," Emma finally said, her thoughts turning inward again.
Sliding closer, Regina moved her hand to Emma's back, rubbing small circles as she leaned in. The sweet, familiar scent of her cut through the rich dampness of the forest and that made it easier, because Regina being near her made everything that much more bearable. "You've forgiven me for worse."
"But they're my parents," she insisted around a mouthful of sandwich. Whatever was with the cheese had a little bit of a bite to it and together it made a pretty fantastic sandwich, that Emma had to chew before she couldn't finish arguing. "You're-" Emma stopped because neither friend or girlfriend seemed to fit. Whatever they were to each other, it went far, far beyond such flimsy monickers. "You're," she started again, "you're Regina. You're not my parents. You don't owe me anything." Her voice was harsh, almost defensive and Emma looked away. Regina didn't move away though.
"What do they owe you?" Regina asked, her voice soft and patient, like the thick trees around them. Her hand continued to stroke gentle circles, slowly edging up the fabric of Emma' shirt to touch warm skin beneath. Emma wondered if Regina was even aware she was doing it but she couldn't bring herself to ask, afraid if she did Regina might stop. The touch helped, soothing her in a way she hadn't realized she'd hungered for without feeling stifling or patronizing.
"Honesty," Emma answered immediately, then she sighed, because that was asking too much right? Parents lied to their kids for their own good, sometimes. Except Emma wasn't a kid. And maybe that was the biggest problem. Her parents still saw her a child to be protected, to have others decide what was best for, but Emma's choices had been taken away so many times, she'd spent her life struggling to find her own way, to be her own person.
"People are going to tell you who you are your whole life, sometimes you just have to punch back and say no…"
Her parents were still trying to tell her who she was, had been trying to make her into an image of a daughter they wanted, even before she was born. And they'd sacrificed another child to do it. Regina's daughter. Her parents had hurt Regina, shattered Maleficent and done something unspeakably evil, not for Emma herself, but for their idea of Emma, because Emma couldn't be trusted to be good on her own. She'd been weighed and measured and found wanting, even before she'd taken her first breath.
Emma had spent years as a child in foster care, moving in and out of homes, clinging to the belief that her parents were out there and they wanted her, that she would have been good enough for them in all the ways she seemed never to be for the families who took her in. It was every foster child's fantasy, she knew that, but Emma had the answer to the question ever orphan secretly asked and the brutal reality was, it was her real parents who had first deemed her 'not enough' and they'd done it before she could even know them.
No wonder no one else had ever thought that she was good enough to keep.
"Perfect honesty is very difficult as a parent," Regina said carefully, and the hint of regret in her voice spoke of experience. She'd lied to Henry, and Emma knew she beat herself up for it still.
"It's not even the lie its..." Emma trailed off, trying to make sense of the emotions tangled inside her chest, crowding at her ribs until it felt like she couldn't take a full breath. With a face she set down her sandwich, not hungry anymore. The taste of it was lost on her and it was too good to eat mechanically. "They'll never see what they did as anything other than right will they?" ?"
Her lips pressed together, and Regina's head moved closer to her shoulder, trusting in a way people usually weren't with Emma; Regina wasn't most people. "They see themselves as the centre of the story, perhaps because they always have been."
Emma wanted to pace, shout at the quiet trees above her, but Regina was so close and she wanted her to stay that there, so she glared at the ground instead, directing her anger towards her toes. "How can they be? There are hundreds of people in Storybrooke, and the story's somehow about my parents? They get what they want and everyone else just goes along for the ride. They manipulate the whole system, take your daughter, give away their own, and they get what they want?"
Regina took a slow breath, then leaned even closer, resting her head against Emma's shoulder. The intimacy of it made her warm all over, threatening to overtake the heat of her anger. Maybe it was easier because they were in the middle of the woods and no one could see them, but Regina, who had suffered, been so feared and hid from other people as much as Emma did, slipped her arm around Emma's leather jacket and held her. With her there, it was almost okay. She could forget about how knowing what her parents had done had ripped apart old wounds. She'd never been enough for anyone. She'd been too old, too attached, too closed off, too misbehaved, and she'd been wrong before she'd even been born. Somehow, even within her mother, she'd had the potential for darkness and danger. Unlike Regina, who'd been twisted by circumstances, and made her own choices which she'd lived to regret, Emma had been created wrong, and her parents had taken another child, sacrificed another child's relationship with her mother, so that Emma would be good enough.
"There's nothing wrong with you, Emma," Regina said. She took Emma's balled up fist and unwound her fingers until she could hold them. "No one, especially you, is born evil." She smiled and the shyness of the way her lips curved made Emma's eyes sting.
"But my potential was so scary that they manipulated someone else's, a baby's soul-"
Regina shook her head, squeezing Emma's fingers and pulling their entwined hands up to her chest. "Your parents believed a prophecy and made a choice-"
Emma interrupted, desperate for an explanation no one could give her. "I don't know if I would have made the same. To save Henry's life? I'd sacrifice anything, anyone, but just to keep him from darkness? I've seen darkness, and it's not something you trick your way out of. You don't trade and bribe to make it go away. You face the darkness and beat it back, like you did."
Breaking eye contact, Regina stared down, overcome for the moment. "And you, Emma. You grew up alone, so utterly alone, and now you take care of everyone. Henry, Maleficent, your brother, you protect the the whole town when no one's ever protected you."
"So do you."
"You've always protected me, you know," Regina said, looking up. She closed the distance between them, touching her lips ever so gently to Emma's cheek. She sat back, staring at Emma with the kind of complete faith that Emma didn't deserve. "From the Wraith, from Greg and Tamara, from the Chernobog. I know you might not realise it, but you're everything to me, and Henry, and if you, just as you are, isn't enough for your parents, well, then they're more stupid than I ever accused them of being."
"Regina-"
"I love you," she said, almost as startled as Emma when she said it. "I- I think, I have for awhile and I, well, I can't say it better, or with more conviction because I've never been good at loving anyone."
"Neither am I," Emma started to agree, but Regina put a finger on her lips.
"You are extraordinary, so much so that you got into my heart when I didn't think that I'd ever love anyone but Henry. When I'd given up, when I thought there was no one left no one left who'd ever understand me or forgive me for all the wrongs in my past, you still wanted to help me. Do you know what that feels like?"
Emma shook her head, but she thought she knew. Being with Regina, taking care of her, keeping her safe, reminding her that she was good, all of that took no effort, because it was true, and natural, like breathing. Somehow, Regina made looking after her sound the same way. "I just want you to be happy."
"And if I'm happy with you?"
Then what? The echoes of the dragon's mark insisted that this was the only course left. Regina was her mate, and that was why she was inevitable, right in a way no one else could ever be. Her pull was more than that, because even without magic, without the tugging deep within her soul, Emma adored her. Dragon fire had only destroyed her inhibitions and doubts, not built something that wasn't there.
"I don't-" Emma started to protest, because Regina was too good, too beautiful, too wonderful to-
"You are enough, you are more than I thought I'd ever have, more than I think I deserve, and I don't care. I'm willing to be the greediest person alive if that means I get you, and I'm so accustomed to hating myself, to punishing myself for my choices before, that I know I don't deserve you-"
How could anyone say that about her? Emma had spent her life being unwanted, unnecessary, in the wrong place with someone else's family, but not here. Regina wanted her, and Henry did, and Maleficent needed to be protected. Her heart insisted that this was family. Strange, singed around the edges, but hers, because Regina said it was.
"When I wanted to give up on my happy ending, you said you'd help me find it," Regina said, smiling gently, as if she couldn't believe what was happening either. "And you did, Emma, and if you're not ready to believe that yet, then I'll help you until you do, because you're enough, exactly enough."